


A Comprehensive Guide to Stopping the Apocalypse

by farvaduvet



Category: Super Smash Brothers
Genre: (I hope), Alternate Universe - High School, Apocalypse, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Multi, dp's gratuitous swearing, funny but also sincere, melancholic teenage angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-20
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:48:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 104,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25395634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/farvaduvet/pseuds/farvaduvet
Summary: July 8th, 2019. Three hundred and fifty-eight days out.One kid with a magic sword, two angels down on Earth for completely different reasons, a handful of rebellious teenagers, and one scrappy fight club, versus the literal end of the world.This isn’t going to go well, is it?
Relationships: Link/Pit
Comments: 25
Kudos: 58





	1. a prologue.

**Author's Note:**

> I should probably... preface this with an explanation, for lack of a better word.  
> I've always been an artist before an author-- my goal is to tell stories in the visual medium, but that's proven to be an incredibly daunting feat so far. This fic doesn't necessarily exist to be any good, but rather, as proof to myself that I actually can tell a story the whole way through. And, hey, a potential audience certainly helps in motivating me to finish this.  
> With all that pretentious nonsense out of the way, enjoy this incredibly self-indulgent, confusing, crack crossover... thing.

_Hey there, Sunshine._

_You’ve been expecting it, I’ve been expecting it, we’ve all been expecting it, and now it’s here. Big Daddy Galeem sent out the date the other day: June 31st, 2020. It’s not even a real day, but since when did he ever care about getting our timekeeping conventions right? Whatever. I digress._

_Figured you might want to know, since you keep going on about your little ‘uprising’ or whatever it is you keep passively planning out. You’ve got just under a year to do something. Have fun with that, sucker! Remember, I’m always here for when you inevitably fail._

_-V_

No return address, but the obnoxious flowery cursive and the ‘made from 100% recycled materials’ on the backside of the card told him exactly who it was from. He definitely wasn’t going to garner any of _her_ sympathy for his cause.

...

Shit, shit, shit. Shitty shit. Looks like he was going to have _way_ less time than anticipated.

What day is it today?

July 8th, 2019. Do the math, that’s 358 days left. 

...Well, the end of the world isn’t exactly going to stop itself now, is it?


	2. I. We Start With Cliches, Because What Else Would We Start With?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's the very start of something.
> 
> \----

August 26th, 2019. Three hundred and nine days out.

Link Wilden.

Seventeen, going on eighteen, by the end of the year. 

Today is Link’s first day of senior year at Ninten Academy, a prestigious private school situated in a classy suburb of east coast Maryland. He does not know that there are only three hundred and nine days until the end of the world. He also doesn’t know of the role he's  _ supposed _ to be playing in it, but that’s a detail for later.

Right now, Link is focused on finding a good reason to drag himself out of bed.

Summertime had seen a shift in his sleeping schedule from normal school hours to blissfully waking up at noon and falling asleep at three in the morning. Having to get up at 6:45 in the morning, just to go back to school? He’d rather kill himself.

Now, that’s probably a bit of an exaggeration. His father was always carrying on about how his education at Ninten Academy would help him achieve success in the long run, so it was worth suffering through. Link didn’t necessarily agree, but he wasn’t about to start fighting with his father on the matter. It’s probably as good a reason as any to roll out of bed, anyways.

He stood up, stretched, and then continued to stand there absentmindedly for a few more moments, before tossing on his usual outfit: jeans, and the same big green bomber jacket as always. The August heat in his town could get a bit blistering, and people often wondered how he didn’t overheat in that getup. The truth was that he  _ did  _ overheat. He just preferred to wear something obscuring. Something comfortable, that he could kind of drown into, without anybody noticing him.

Its long sleeves also covered up the strange, triangle-shaped birthmark on the back of his left hand. Not that Link was self-conscious about it or anything, it just tended to be something that attracted unwanted attention from random strangers.

He walked into the bathroom and stared at himself in the mirror for another few moments-- something of a ritual he had unfortunately gotten into the habit of doing.

What a depressing individual he was. As always, he looked like an insomniac wreck, with a perpetually tired look in his eyes, and his stringy, long-ish blond hair hanging all over the place like an untamed haystack. He threw it into its usual ponytail. That helped.

Some people (family friends) liked to tell him he was handsome. Link really did not like that term. He certainly didn’t feel handsome… looking at himself right now, he felt boring more than anything else. Just another guy trying to get by, unremarkable in every sense of the word.

Hopefully, at the very least, he seemed less depressed than he was last year. Eleventh grade was a time in his life he’d really prefer to eliminate from his mind; a state of inexplicably and perpetually being in the dumps. Complete cheerlessness. Total melancholia. Et cetera. Link had told himself that he’d at least  _ attempt  _ to stay positive about his final year of high school, but… yeah, nobody’s ever done that successfully. He was still the same mess as always.

He was supposed to go places, everyone said. A whole world of possibilities apparently laid before him, and he didn’t even want it there.

Question of the morning: was his dad still here?

Peering around the corner outside of the bathroom, he observed the main area of his home, where the kitchen and living room were. Looks like his father already left for work. That’s good. Link didn’t really feel like dealing with his overbearing presence on a morning like this one. Or any morning, for that matter. But especially not today.

His dog, Twilight, was asleep on his bed by the sofa, as usual. That creature did nothing but sleep. Which was okay, because he was adorable and just the goodest boy ever.

Lunch for the day consisted of leftover chicken noodle soup. And probably for the next couple of days. He’d made  _ way _ too much the other day.

Breakfast for the day consisted of nothing. Wait, scratch that, there’s granola bars in the cabinet. He could eat them on the go. Which was good, considering that he had to leave in about three minutes (good job standing around in your room for ages, you idiot). Actually, more like one, since it took him two minutes to ride the elevator down into the garage under the apartment complex he lived in.

Link had been told that he was a lucky soul. He had a motorcycle instead of a car. It was a pretty junky vehicle-- he’d rescued it from a scrapyard run by one Mr. Bolson, a family friend, and as such, it was prone to randomly breaking down. Nothing Link couldn’t fix by frantically turning the engine on and off enough times until the thing started again.

He called it the Master Cycle.

...Brilliant name.

School was about fifteen minutes away, situated a bit of a distance away from the not-as-classy urban area of the classy suburban area that he lived in. 

Now is probably as good a time as any to talk about how Link ended up at Ninten Academy, since a fifteen minute ride to school isn’t very interesting to elaborate on.

It was supposed to be an honor to get into Ninten Academy, one of the best private high schools in the whole area. Sure, there was no shortage of rich kids there, but the school tended to get a little trigger-happy with its scholarships; perhaps as a flaunt of its endowment? To make itself look like a saint in the eyes of the public? Who knows.

Link was one of those people to receive a scholarship. His father was the manager of a local grocery store, his mother had died when he was two, and his grandparents lived out in the boonies of Nebraska, so his family wasn’t exactly affluent. Good thing Link was super smart-- or so he’d been told all his life. He’d liked his old public school enough, but his father had pressured him into accepting the generous offer, and now he was here, at Ninten.

Now, his father had instead turned to pressuring him into applying to a bunch of top-level universities, probably to major in business or some similar nonsense. Link didn’t care about that at all. Deep down, he wanted to go to culinary school, but his dumb dad kept on saying how that would be a waste of his high school education, how he could do much better than that, as a ‘very intelligent young man.’

God, Link hated that phrase. If he had a nickel for every time someone referred to him like  _ that _ , he’d… probably not be very rich. Nickels didn’t really add up to much. He would have a hell of a lot of them, though.

Back in real-time, he rolled up to the parking lot at the school. Ninten Academy was a very nice establishment-- sort-of classical-style white brick buildings with large windows, and perfectly mowed lawns decorated here and there with carefully manicured trees and shrubs. The lawn guy was known to have a lot of time on his hands.

Link pulled out his daily schedule that he had printed off the night before. Today, the students were supposed to go through their classes as usual, but with an all-student assembly at the end of the day, where headmaster Peach Toadstool would inevitably give her endless speech about the joys of the year to come and the camaraderie of the student body that usually lasted half an hour longer than necessary. Thrilling.

His phone went off. Someone messaged him.

**zelders** : Link! Where are you?

**handsoffmykakariko** : hold up i legit just got here

**handsoffmykakariko** : where you at

**zelders** : The library. As I have been for the last 45 minutes.

**handsoffmykakariko** : great im comin

Link had two friends at this school. Or rather, one real friend and one that was his… acquaintance? Maybe?

The one that was definitely his friend was Zelda Bosphoramus, a passionate young girl, the kind of person who takes the most advanced courses not to look good, but because she actually enjoys learning for the sake of learning. She’s the daughter of Rhoam Bosphoramus, the CEO of a very prominent banking corporation, and has been set up her whole life as the heiress to it. Not that she wants to, of course, as she fully intends to fly in the face of her father’s wishes and go on into engineering or something adjacent to that.

Their friendship started with a group project gone wrong in freshman year-- the teacher paired them together to do research on pillbugs, and Zelda became incredibly frustrated, because Link didn’t say much and didn’t do much of the work. Somehow, they recovered from that and became close friends (though neither is entirely sure how that happened). 

They were kind of an odd combo. Zelda was the social yet studious type, and Link-- well, he certainly wasn’t the rebellious type, that was honestly more Zelda’s thing, but he was definitely the mysterious loner. 

Did he like being the loner? 

...Well, it meant most people left him alone. And he certainly needed that with everything  _ else _ going on in his life. And Zelda was a great enough friend that he didn’t really need anyone else to fill that role. She, too, understood what it was like to be forced into circumstances. She was the person he could go to if he ever needed to dump his emotions on someone. And vice versa, he could be that person for her. Plus, she knew how to have ridiculous fun and get away with it. She was just the kind of friend he needed.

Their lives were so similar, to the point where Link couldn’t help but resent that, just a bit. He wished he could approach things a little more like she did.

Arriving forty-five minutes early to the first day of school was absolutely in character for her, Link thought, grinning slightly to himself.

On his way over to the library, he spotted his other friend-acquaintance-person-that-he-knew. They waved at each other. They continued on their separate ways. 

DP Leandros was a moody kid that had somehow inserted himself into Link’s life, for one inexplicable reason or another. If Link was mysterious and rebellious, then DP absolutely blew him out of the water in that sense. Link knew next to nothing about him: where he came from, where he lived, why he bothered to interact with Link in the first place, not even what his first name stood for. Unless it didn’t stand for anything, which was his current theory at the moment.

Why the hesitation on calling him a friend? Well, Link liked his presence enough; DP was an honest kind of person, who wasn’t afraid to speak his mind when he wanted to. But he always had an… angry air about him, so Link couldn’t actually tell if DP really enjoyed being around him or not. 

Whatever. They hung out sometimes, and that was enough. 

The library of Ninten was an impressively-stocked place, with shelves of books stretching from the floor to the ceiling, and finely-carved wooden tables for the students to use. Zelda, of course, had eschewed them in favor of the colorful bean bags in one corner of the room. 

She waved her hands in the air as Link walked in. “Hey! Over here!”

“Pretty sure you’re not allowed to yell in a library.” Link chuckled, tossing his backpack onto the ground. 

“Oh, please. There’s kind of already a racket in here, anyways.”

No, there was not. Unless you consider the conversations between the less than fifteen other students a ‘racket.’

Zelda pulled a piece of paper out of a blue folder with a mandala drawn on it. “Here’s my schedule. Where’s yours? We sharing any classes?”

Link, who was conveniently already holding his, placed it next to Zelda’s. “Calc II… And that’s it.”

“Phooey.”

“You know that’s the only class we have in common, right? I told you and everything. So we’re actually lucky.”

“Ah, I probably forgot.” Zelda laughed. She had decided last year to take all IB classes-- mostly science and history ones, to boot. Link didn’t follow suit; he still wanted to have  _ some _ time to do stuff outside of mountains of schoolwork. He didn’t know how she could pull it off without going insane.

They sat for a few moments in silent contemplation.

“Well, here we are,” Zelda started, “The last first day of school.”

“Grand.” Link deadpanned, picking at the dirt under his fingernails.

“How do you suppose this year is going to go?”

“Exactly as you think it’s going to. We’ll do all the senior things, you know, like, uh, graduate. Go to prom. Pick a college. Get wasted at someone’s house party. Blaze some drugs.”

“How… cliche of you to say.”

“Well, what do you think, then?”

“Hm,” Zelda mused. “It’ll probably feel the same as every other year, just with the lingering sense of finality tinting the whole experience. From what I’ve heard, senior year is generally overhyped across the board.”

“That sounds about right.”

Here’s the part where we remark about how wrong they are, thanks to the power of foresight.

Soon, the first bell went off, a pleasant chord emitting out of the loudspeaker system. The two of them mechanically grabbed their stuff and headed off to their respective classes, waving goodbye.

Now for a quick summary of Link’s day: First is English--his other IB class-- then Photography, the one elective he actually thought was interesting. After that is Physics, and then lunch.

Turns out he didn’t share a lunch period with Zelda. However, he did find DP sitting alone against the wall in the courtyard with a cup of yogurt. Link silently joined him.

“Long time no see,” DP stated after a moment. “It’s been, what, three months?”

Yeah, Link hadn’t really done a good job of keeping in touch with him over the summer.

“Sorry,” he said under his breath, pulling out his thermos of chicken noodle soup.

DP shrugged, twiddling his plastic spoon in between his fingers. “Eh. I don’t really care. I was busy anyway.”

“With what?”

“Stuff that doesn’t concern you.”

Ah, yes. In usual DP fashion, he was as vague as ever. Link didn’t bother to push the point anymore.

“How’s your portfolio going?” Link asked, changing the subject.

“Mostly done. Except the goddamn Calarts sketchbook,” DP groaned, tilting his head towards a small book on the ground.

“Can I see?”

“Sure. But don't get your soup on it.”

What Link actually  _ did  _ know about DP was that he was a really good artist. Like,  _ really _ good. He was gunning to get into some of the best art schools in the country next year. Link was sure he’d be able to, but DP was always whining about how that was never going to happen. At least his sketchbook seemed to be coming along really nicely.

“Thoughts? Outside of useless stuff like, ‘this is the best thing I’ve ever seen.’”

Link pondered for a moment. “...There’s a lot of birds in there. Maybe don’t do any more of those? Since you keep saying they want to see a ‘diversity of subjects’ or whatever.”

“Agh, I know already.” 

“Of course you do.” 

The conversation didn’t really go anywhere after that. 

After lunch was Link’s one class with Zelda, Calculus II. Link found math incredibly boring, though he was very good at it. He just watched Zelda take her characteristic multi-colored notes, a tactic she was obviously using to keep herself engaged while the teacher rambled on through the course syllabus.

And, of course, the last class of the day: French, which he frankly could have dropped two years ago, but kept it up to look good on his college applications.

A thrilling course of events. And to top it all off was the headmaster’s speech, which went on about as painstakingly long as Link had predicted. Mrs. Toadstool, and her husband, Mario Jumpmann, seemed like nice enough people, but not even they could make a school year sound exciting.

Link was out of there as fast as possible.

School had always been, and would always be, a depressing, dull, homogenized mess. He was sure this year would be no different.

He walked through the door of his apartment at 3:47, kicked off his boots at the front, dropped his backpack off in his room, and shuffled into the kitchen to find a snack. And possibly figure out what to make for dinner. Though he was exhausted from waking up earlier than usual for the day’s events, he  _ really _ didn’t feel like eating chicken noodle for the second meal in a row. There was also a tupperware of lasagna sitting in the fridge, but that had been there for at least three weeks, and Link wasn’t willing to touch it with a thirty-foot pole.

He thought about throwing it out. He ended up leaving it there.

Link collapsed on the couch next to his sleeping dog with a sigh. Maybe he’d just text his father to bring home a frozen pizza from the store or something.

Usually, Link’s father came home around seven, meaning he had about three hours to himself. What to do?

He didn’t really have any hobbies outside of cooking and going on extended walks, and he really didn’t feel like doing either of those things right now. He was tired. It was blazing hot outside. Seems like as good a time as any to scroll around on his phone for hours.

And that’s exactly what he did, until his father walked in the door, about three hours later, carrying a bag from Taco Bell with him.

“I hope this is fine,” his father panted, holding the bag up, obviously winded from having walked up four flights of stairs. The man sure was adamant about not using the elevator. “I don’t think I can stomach any pizza right now.”

Link reflexively turned his phone off and shoved it in his jacket pocket. “Uh, that’s alright. I’ll eat anything right now.”

“Ah, good.” He walked into the kitchen and put the bag down. “In any case, how was your day? First day of senior year. That’s a big one. Wish I could have been there to send you off.”

“It was fine,” Link said simply, turning around to pet his dog.

“How were your classes?”

“Marginally interesting.”

His father furrowed his brows. “I hope you’ll try not to be that blase about the whole year. You should enjoy it. It’s your last one, after all.”

“I’m trying.”

The conversation then suddenly died. Link had become quite skilled at killing conversations, he’d noticed. His father went to get changed in his room, and Link turned to setting the table, in some attempt to ensure his father wouldn’t get any more annoyed with him.

How does one exactly set the table for Taco Bell?

Eh, the least he could do was unwrap the food and put it on actual plates.

Family dinner in the Wilden household was always kind of an uncomfortable experience. Link wasn’t the kind of person to start talking all of a sudden, so his father usually had to try to force vague answers out of Link. And when their stilted conversation didn’t work out, his father resorted to monologuing at him. Sometimes it was about his day at work, which Link was fine with, but other times, it was typical fatherly lectures.

Today’s thrilling topic was… yet another recounting of his father’s own senior year, tying into his earlier point about enjoying the time that Link had left. Link zoned out, picking at his burrito, nodding along at random intervals.

Eventually his father fell silent, after running out of things to say.

Now was the grab-bag part.

“...How are your college applications going? Did you work on them this afternoon?”

“Nah. Too tired after my first day.”

“Well, procrastinating will get you nowhere. Better to finish them now while your workload at school is still light.”

“I will.” Link would get around to them in his own time. The prospect of writing all those very personal supplemental essays was still skeeving him out.

There was a pause.

“Do you want to get a haircut soon? Your hair’s gotten awfully long.”

Aw, crap. He’d let his hair down on the couch earlier when he’d felt a headache coming on. He kept it up at all times around his father so as not to call attention to it. Too many times he’d been nagged about the subject. “Uh, no, I’m fine.”

“You’ll want to do that soon.”

“I know.”

Another pause.

“...Can I be excused now?”

“Sure,” his father sighed.

And Link dashed off to his room.

Ugh.

He was not ready for a whole year’s worth of school days. One was already enough. 

Well, it’s just one more year, he reasoned to himself. One more year and then you can move on to better things. You’ll get into a groove soon, and then all the days will pass really fast, and the end of the year will come before you know it.

But what would come after high school? He’d go to some really prestigious university, study some useful major he didn’t actually care about, get some boring top-paying office job, and probably lose touch with the only two friends that he had. Or, uh, the only friend and only friend-acquaintance-person-he-knew. Life wasn’t going to get any better from here.

These were the same lonely, existential thoughts that usually paraded around in his brain on most nights. A mind-sink that was nigh impossible to drag himself out of.

That’s what he was in the end, right? Your average, cliche, lonely, misunderstood, existential teenager.

Link sighed, flopping down onto his bed. He just wanted to fall asleep.

And he did. Good for him.

Well, there’s your microcosm of Link’s life, before everything gets batshit-crazy for him and everyone else who’s relevant to this story.

\----

August 27th, 2019. Three hundred and eight days out.

It might be worth it to note that Link is plagued with strange dreams every now and then, that wake him up in the middle of the night. 

At 1:34 am, Link jolts up out of bed.

They’re not nightmares, but they have just that level of weirdness to them-- the kind that seeps into your subconscious over the course of the day, and leaves you retroactively disturbed for a long while.

Usually, they’re about giant hands descending from the sky, destroying everything in sight. Or something along those lines. This one is no different.

Why he keeps having them, Link doesn’t know. Zelda says dreams are like a collage of your day-to-day experiences, but he doesn’t recall recurrently seeing a bunch of destructive hands in his life.

It’s probably a metaphor for something, he supposes. Like the lack of control he has over his own circumstances or some other pretentious, subliminal meaning.

That’s... one way to look at it. 

Of course, in reality, it’s not a metaphor at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not gonna lie, things start a little slow... but it'll all ramp up soon.


	3. II. An Otherworldly Presence on the Bus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> an early-morning hum.
> 
> \----

August 29th, 2019. Three hundred and six days out.

Link had spent the last five minutes down in the parking garage, trying to get his motorcycle to start. As it would happen, frantically turning the engine off and on again doesn’t fix it every time.

He huffed in frustration. He was going to have to catch a ride to school today, wasn’t he?

The public transit bus was running at this time in the morning, and he knew several other kids at the school that used it every day. There was a stop three blocks or so from his apartment. If he ran, he’d probably make it to school on time.

...Hopefully, it wouldn’t be too crowded. The last thing Link wanted was for his usual morning solace to be interrupted by the incessant white noise of people chatting in the background.

_ Sorry, Master Cycle, _ he thought, looking longingly at his beloved motorcycle, before snatching his backpack off the ground and dashing out the garage entrance.

7:57 am. He had time. School was only a fifteen minute drive away.

A detail to note: Link speeds consistently on the roads. His school ride would be upwards of twenty minutes if he followed the law.

Conveniently, the bus arrived a few moments after Link arrived at the stop. He quickly paid the driver, and shuffled over to an empty seat in the middle of the bus. Most of the other seats were empty, too-- guess rush hour was over. Link put his backpack on the adjacent seat just to be sure.

Jerk move? Yes. Did he care? Not this early in the morning.

He checked the time on his phone. The bus was driving slowly, but he’d probably make it before the first bell. 

Well, since he’s not operating a vehicle, might as well drown the sound of the engine with some music. After a frustrating moment of fishing around in his backpack, he pulled out his tangled mess of earbuds, plugged them into his phone, and sat back, closing his eyes.

Until the bus jerked to a standstill. Almost as if the driver hadn’t noticed someone sitting at the next stop until the last moment. Link opened one eye, surveying his surroundings in annoyance, before attempting to zone out again.

He did, however, sort of notice the new passenger brush past him-- some person wearing light blue overalls and a plain white t-shirt, probably young enough to also be a student. Link didn’t give the person a second thought until they sat down directly behind him, their seat facing the back, and Link’s, the front.

Oh, spectacular.

He wanted to be angry that they had chosen that particular seat, when there were literally dozens of other open ones further away from him. But he suddenly felt… weird vibes. Not a very eloquent way of phrasing it, but probably the best way to describe the sensation. Out of pure, irrational curiosity, Link sort of turned around in his seat to look at this mysterious person again.

They had wild brown hair, with two little golden hair clips that didn’t seem to be doing anything functional in there. Who was this kid? Link had never seen them at Ninten before. Maybe they were new? Maybe they didn’t go there at all?

Somehow, they seemed to notice Link’s gaze, despite facing the opposite direction. They turned around to meet Link’s eyes. Big and blue. Far bluer than his own. 

Link sort of drew back, feeling the weird vibes again.

“Heya.”

Well, Link was going to pretend he didn’t hear that. He jerked back around to face the front of the bus again, sinking into his seat, and unpausing his music, face cringing red in regretful embarrassment. 

“Whatcha listening to?”

If he sat here, didn’t move, surely the kid would turn back around and leave him alone.

“Not really a talker?”

Against his better judgement, he answered the original question. “...It’s lo-fi.”

“What’s loafy?”

“It’s, uh, a genre.”

Link couldn’t see the other person, but he could sense that they were leaning over the back of his seat. Sure enough, when he looked up, he met their otherworldly gaze again.

He narrowed his eyes.

The other person shrank back into their seat. “S-sorry.”

Link sat there silently for a moment, pondering. He’d think nothing of this person if it wasn’t for these stupid… weird vibes. He was so inexplicably  _ intrigued _ . Something inside of himself was telling him to ask them something, literally anything.

“What’s your name?” Link asked quietly, breaking the silence.

“Pit Halloway,” They responded, once again turning to face Link with their strange blue eyes, a small smile on their face. His face? Probably he, Link assumed.

“You go to Ninten?” Link continued. 

“Now I do.”

“Me too.”

“Well, what’s  _ your _ name, then?”

“...Link. Wilden.”

Pit grinned. “Guess we’ll see a lot of each other, huh?”

“I guess so.”

“Are you also a senior?”

Link nodded, a bit surprised. This kid was a senior? He would’ve guessed he wasn’t older than a sophomore, based on how he looked. “You transferred schools right before senior year? What kind of parents are dragging you around?”

“Uh, I guess, I move a lot. S’no matter, though. I like the change,” Pit answered, a bit sheepishly. 

What a cheerful guy. If Link was yanked into a new school in his final year, he’d probably commit multiple acts of arson in retaliation.

“I like to take things in stride,” Pit continued. “No use getting angry with how things are.”

“Good for you.” Link  _ wished _ he could have that mentality.

Pit smiled at Link again-- soft, yet beaming, at the same time, all the way up to those entrancing blue eyes.

Then the bus jerked to a stop again. Link grimaced, staring out the window, realizing they had reached the school. 

“We’re here,” Pit announced, stating the obvious. Both of them quietly gathered their belongings and shuffled off.

He checked the time. 8:16. He’d have just enough time to get his stuff before first period.

“...See you around?” Pit said, stopping at the front gate.

Link looked up from his phone, to meet Pit’s stare one more time. 

He hoped he’d see him around. For some reason. 

“Inevitably.”

And they parted ways.

Link watched as he strolled away. Pit sort of walked with a bounce in his step; not quite skipping, but definitely not flatly, as most do. A breeze then kicked up, blowing his untamed hair around. 

Uh… what breeze? The air was still where Link was standing. None of the leaves on the trees were moving, either. 

He shrugged to himself, walking towards the front entrance. Maybe he was just seeing things. That’s probably it. 

An interesting person, regardless. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Link does not know that it is pronounced 'lo-fye', not 'lo-fee.'  
> Who's going to tell him otherwise?


	4. III. I hate the word, 'fate.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's you versus the world.
> 
> \----

August 29th, 2019. Three hundred and six days out.

DP Leandros.

Although, anyone with a brain should already know that DP stands for Dark Pit. Just another uninspired name in the ever-growing list of personas he’s had over time. 

He’s well over two thousand years old at this point, but as far as everyone else knows, he’s either eighteen or twenty-one.

Eighteen, because that’s young enough to be a high school student. Twenty-one, because that’s old enough to own property without raising any eyebrows.

Fifty-two days ago, he learned that the world is supposed to end within a year.

‘But, why exactly is that the case?’ You probably wonder to yourself. It is the main point of this story, is it not?

Well, here’s how DP would put it: Galeem, the God of Order, and Dharkon, the God of Chaos. Masters of the universe.

Together, they’ve created some idiotic cosmic order tailored to their every whim. Every so often, they decide to start the world all over again, for their own inexplicable reasons, and every other god and semi-immortal being in existence has to haul ass to ensure their own safety before everything else is literally obliterated and then reformed.

What sickens DP to the core is that every other god and semi-immortal being in existence is just  _ going along _ with this plan. No questions asked. 

Now, DP has always had a sort of… unconventional existence, that probably predisposed him to this thought. He’s a failed evil clone, born from a broken mirror, who has never picked any side but his own. Angels, of course, really only live to serve, and he flies directly in the face of that.

Ha. If he could even fly on his own. He occasionally relies on the asshole Nature goddess Viridi to grant him that ability. She also happens to be the only significant person left who cares one iota about him. And that iota is basically negligible. They haven’t seen each other in person in… how long? Maybe a little under a century? At least she had the decency to keep him posted through her obnoxious letters.

He’d had his stint with heroism a  _ long _ time ago, but eventually, he decided to leave everything he’d ever known, and resorted to just living with the humans down on Earth. Nobody up in his old home wanted him there, so what the hell else was he supposed to do? Fling himself into the void of space for all eternity?

Though he had basically trapped himself on the surface of the planet-- five minutes of flight certainly doesn’t get you very far into the atmosphere-- he’d grown to love the laid-back, humble nature of life on Earth, from hot days, to peaceful nights, flowers blooming in the spring, snow falling in the winter, and a thousand other tiny, breathtaking details, to the point where he wasn’t even ashamed of it anymore. It was the world he’d started all over again in. Why did the gods feel a need to destroy something that was perfectly fine as-is?

DP had known, in the back of his head, that this was going to happen eventually. It always did, that’s what he had always been told. It was just a matter of when. For hundreds of years, he’d been planning various schemes to overthrow Galeem and Dharkon in some way. Only problem was, he had absolutely no idea how. He was just one angel with an impressive arsenal of weapons, and nothing more. None of the gods were willing to go along with him, and as far as he was concerned, no human could stand a chance against divine power. They’d all probably die in one hit. It would be pathetic.

He had one lead, though: by sheer coincidence, he’d managed to find the person supposed to wield the legendary ‘sword that seals the darkness’-- whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean.

Its purpose, according to Viridi, was to gather up all the chaotic energy of the world so Galeem could do whatever he wanted with it. It played an instrumental part in the whole apocalypse-scheme.

Seemed to DP like a dumb system of doing things, but everything the Supreme Gods did was stupid. 

So that’s how DP ended up at Ninten-- to chase down and secretly befriend the guy with the indicative triangle mark on his hand, and get him onto his side. He’d been trying to do so ever since freshman year. Was it going well?

...Probably not. But he hadn’t really been trying that hard thus far.

It was crunch time now, though. What could he do?

Uh...

He’d been standing in front of the cluttered planning bulletin board on his wall for the past twenty minutes, mind looping on that exact question-- something of a ritual that he had unfortunately gotten into the habit of doing recently.

DP had bought the small, abandoned warehouse he now lived in from one Mr. Bolson, who hadn’t batted an eye when DP signed all the necessary contracts with a fake ID. Either DP was a great liar, or this Bolson fellow didn’t really care. 

It’s probably the latter, considering this is the same man who sold a sixteen-year-old Link a motorcycle for the cheap price of two hundred bucks.

His home was pretty… spartan, to say the least. He’d wanted the big, empty interior for any potential combat training (which the space hadn’t been used for, ever). On one wall was the cheap hammock he slept in, with all his clothes piled on the floor in a slight semblance of organization. On the opposite wall was the aforementioned bulletin board, which he had been using to keep track of his schemes. It was a mess. It was surrounded by tons of other papers and sticky notes taped to the wall.

Dead center was a big purple piece of cardstock, with a bold title written on it with a chunky black sharpie: 

_ A Comprehensive Guide To Stopping The Apocalypse. _

_ Step one: _

And that was it. 

It was definitely a work-in-progress.

Well, no use standing around and doing nothing. Maybe he’d actually make some progress at school today?

306 days left. He still had 306 days left. He could definitely do this.

DP wasn’t really the kind of person to spend a lot of time getting ready in the mornings. He wore basically the same thing every day-- black tank top, purple jacket, jeans, and his shoes with the slight heel on the bottom that made him look a little taller than his extremely modest five foot three. He hadn’t really aged much physically… ever. Would he  _ ever  _ look older than sixteen? Who knows. Mirror shit is weird. But it’s nothing that tall shoes and some eyeliner can’t help mitigate.

Breakfast for the day consisted of… a cold slice of pizza from the refrigerator. DP did have a microwave, but the thing broke a month ago, and he really didn’t feel like going out and buying a new one. He sat down on the floor, because he didn’t own any chairs. Whatever. The floor is a great place to sit. 

He also had a cat named Two, a very light-gray cat with a darker tail who he’d found outside his home with one eye poked out. Two was named ironically, and was kind of grouchy, but that was fine, because she was so cute and warm and would sit on his lap and stare up at him with her giant eye with a longing look on her face and that was all DP ever needed. 

He was normally cold and unforgiving, but he lost all his brain cells when looking at cats. Unless they were trying to lick his pizza. Which is what his cat was trying to do.

“You nasty fucker,” DP groaned, standing up and out of reach of Two.

Well, it was already 7:45. He may as well leave for school already.

Parked illegally on the side of the road was the same black car he’d been using since 1999. He wasn’t quite sure what he was going to do when it inevitably broke down forever, but it was still working just fine, so he tried not to think about that reality. 

By day at Ninten Academy, DP was the angsty artist kid in his senior year of high school, raised by a couple of chill parents who let him do basically whatever he wanted, stressing all the time about making that perfect portfolio and getting into that perfect art school. He already knew he’d be good enough to get into any of them, if he really wanted to (which he actually did, after faking it for a while). After all, he’d been honing his art skills since the 1800s, when impressionism really got popular. The impressionists _ really _ popped off. In his humble opinion.

Well, there’s another reason to stop the apocalypse. He had to become famous enough to get people to put his art in the National Gallery or something. Couldn’t do that if everyone was literally dead.

Most of his classes were a pain in the ass; they were something he’d have to suffer through, though, if he wanted his nebulous plans to succeed.

Naturally, Art was the only marginally interesting class. He shared it with his one actual friend at this current point in time: Meggy Cephalo, the wacky artist kid, also in her senior year. She was the kind of person to dye her long pigtails bright orange and go around vandalizing buildings in cheeky graffiti with her friends. Both of them sat in the way back of the studio by the stacks of easels, goofing off and generally not paying attention. 

Meggy was also the only person who knew of his status as, basically, a demigod. He had told her one day during junior year in a fit of frustration, and she’d been trying to help him with his schemes ever since. Albeit passively, and semi-ironically. She thought the whole predicament was hilarious.

Today, the teacher was carrying on about portfolio requirements. Meggy was doodling colorful Eldritch-abomination squids on the side of her notes with a pink highlighter, and DP was typing on his phone discreetly behind an open folder.

“Whatcha doin’?” She whispered to him.

“Planning.”

“About what?”

“What I’m always planning about,” he answered, not looking up

“Specifically?”

“...Trying to plan out a conversation with Viridi.”

“You know that’s not gonna work, right?”

“Yup.”

“Okay. Have fun,” Meggy smirked. DP rolled his eyes and went back to typing.

Trying to convince any of the gods to join him was a lost cause, that much was for sure. Most of the ones who mattered didn’t give a shit about humanity, and probably wouldn’t listen to what some random angel had to say. The ones who would listen to him…?

Well, there was Rosalina, the space goddess. Only problem was, she was in, you know, space. DP couldn’t get up there on his own. 

Of course, there was the aforementioned Viridi, probably his best shot. But she hated humans with a burning passion, and was probably stocking up on popcorn to eat while she watched them all die. 

And then there was Palutena.

...Yeah, he didn’t really want to show his face in her domain ever again. Mostly because of a certain  _ other  _ someone. 

He was seriously running out of options that didn’t involve talking to the guy with the sword. 

Link Wilden, at least according to DP, was not the happiest fellow on Earth. His father was always pushing him around, and he just took it, like a punching bag. The last thing his depressed brain needed was to discover he actually had some magic ‘destiny’ that he would be forced to fulfill. The longer DP could keep Link in the dark, the better. 

Meggy always insisted that he should just confront Link already. It was fate that he’d find out about everything, right? Might as well do it now and give Link his own side of the story before the Divine Presence of the gods or some bullshit like that descends out of the sky and does it instead. 

Yeah, yeah, DP  _ would _ confront him eventually. Tell him something, like, ‘Fuck your fate. Flip the gods off. Don’t do anything they tell you to do.’

They’d probably both be killed for that, actually. 

Fate. He  _ hated _ that word.

DP groaned to himself. He had no idea what to do. 

Meggy chuckled from his side. 

“Shut up.”

“No, no, I’m laughing at this sick drawing here,” she lied.

She pointed to the blindingly neon-pink squid. DP squinted. “How the hell can you stand to draw with that thing?”

“Because I’m not a joyless sponge,” Meggy smirked, twirling her highlighter between her fingers before starting another doodle. 

Blargh. 

\----

Smash Pizza was a locally-owned pizza joint. It wasn’t exactly well-known, but it had sort of turned into a popular spot for the local kids to hang out, especially after school. Meggy, taking note of DP’s snappish demeanor in art class earlier, decided he’d maybe feel better if he had a shit ton of cheese fries or something, and dragged him off to the restaurant.

If by dragging him off, you mean badgering him to drive the two of them over, since Meggy had had her license revoked by her parents as punishment for reckless driving.

Well, it’s not like DP had anything to eat at home besides more cold pizza. Hot pizza easily trumps cold pizza. That’s just a fact. 

Meggy found them a secluded booth on the side wall of the restaurant, away from the blinking lights of its neon arcade in the back, or the loud clatter of dishes in the kitchen behind the front bar. “So. I’ve got an idea,” she began, shifting her eyes slyly around the half-crowded room.

DP looked up from his phone. “About what?”

“Your world-saving plan, you dummy.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Continue.”

“Well, you know, I’ve been thinking… If you can’t get your god-friends to team up with you, then who’s going to help you out?”

“I don’t know.”

“If none of them are helping you, you just fight like a normal person, right? No special powers or anything.”

“Tch. I’m not  _ that _ weak. I can certainly take a lot more hits than  _ you _ before getting killed,” he retorted.

“Irrelevant! Here’s what I suggest: Why don’t you, y’know, just train a bunch of humans and form an army or something? Or, uh, maybe it doesn’t have to be an army, just a group of people who can kick some ass.” She wiggled her eyebrows at him. 

DP put his head in his hands. “You don’t think I’ve thought about the possibility already? You humans are like… a glass window. And the gods are like an errant six-year-old with a baseball. You’re gonna die in one hit. It’s a lost cause.”

“Think about it. It’s your one shot.”

“...You just want to fight, don’t you.” 

“Maaaaybe,” Meggy grinned. “But seriously. We’re all supposed to die, anyways. Might as well go down in a blaze of awesome glory.”

He shrugged, glancing out the window. “I guess.” 

“Look around. It would be easy to find some help.” She tilted her head towards the back of the restaurant, indicating a kid in a striped shirt and a red baseball cap dominating an arcade machine. “For example, there’s Ness Onett over there. Rumor has it he has psychic powers or something.”

“Uh, that’s just rumor,” DP protested.

“Or, what about Cloud Strife?” Meggy continued, looking at the employee at the ordering counter. “He may look like a depressed college student working a minimum-wage job, but he’s apparently done some mercenary work on the side. And, how about  _ that _ guy?” She jerked her thumb towards a man in a blue hoodie, sitting solitary on a barstool by the window. “That’s Sans. He once snapped some guy’s leg directly in half. Through the bone and everything.”

“What, exactly, is your point with this?”

“Humans aren’t really helpless little chickens like you think they are, right?”

DP paused to think for a moment as the aforementioned Cloud Strife dropped their cheese fries off at the table unceremoniously. 

“Enjoy,” Cloud deadpanned, before marching back to the counter.

“Thanks, dude!” Meggy called back. She then picked up a fry and pointed it at DP. “Just, consider what I said. It’s not such a bad idea, if you think about it for more than one second.”

“I’ll… make a note of it.”

“Cool, cool.”

The song on the overhead speakers then changed.

“Oh! Hey! It’s Off The Hook! These guys  _ slap! _ ” Meggy suddenly exclaimed, pounding the table with her hands, and causing DP to drop his phone onto his ketchup packet.

Yeah, Meggy was a little bit all over the place like that. One minute, she’d be scheming about the apocalypse, and the next, she’d be raving about some band. Though she was exasperating at times, DP appreciated her crazy attitude, as someone who was usually no-nonsense himself. Why in the world she liked having him around was a bit of an enigma to him.

Whatever the reason, he was glad to have her around.

\----

That night, he took out his fat black sharpie, and added a first point on that purple piece of cardstock:

_ A Comprehensive Guide To Stopping The Apocalypse. _

_ Step One: form a team _

Frankly, Meggy probably had the best idea, for the time being. As much as he hated to admit it. If he wanted to stand a chance, he’d need all the backup he could get.

Only question was: where the fuck to start?

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to my wonderful sister [Squiped_Mew](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Squiped_Mew/pseuds/Squiped_Mew) for beta-reading this chapter.  
> And all of them, technically.  
> But this one in particular.


	5. IV. Take Me On a Tangent

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember: it's soh cah toa.
> 
> \----

September 2nd, 2019. Three hundred and three days out.

DP was nowhere to be found at lunch that day, so Link decided to eat in the relatively quiet library and get a head start on his homework, which had been growing exponentially since the first day of school. Calc work especially was  _ obnoxiously _ tedious, so it was probably best to knock that one out in a place where he couldn’t get that distracted.

Well, it would have been a good place, if a certain someone hadn’t decided to show up.

“LINK!”

He jumped in his seat, dropping his pencil, and then whipped his head around in surprise.

It was… Pit? They barely knew each other. Why was he yelling at him in the library, of all places?

Pit scrambled over to him, plopping down a large notebook on the table next to all of Link’s stuff. “You’ve taken Trig already, right?”

Link raised an eyebrow. “...How can you tell?”

“Your calculus textbook.”

“Ah.” 

“Uh, well, uhm, sorry if I’m interrupting you…”

“You’re not,” Link suddenly blurted out, even though Pit definitely was.

“Oh, okay, good,” Pit continued. “Well, I have a question about this problem.” He quickly flipped open the notebook, and pointed to a mostly unintelligible mess of writing on a page. “See, it’s identities. I got that secant is one over cosine, but… then I don’t know what to do after that.”

Oh. He just wanted help with work?

If Pit thought he looked smart, then he’d certainly take the compliment.

Link squinted at the page for a moment. Good thing his own handwriting sucked, or else he probably wouldn’t be able to make out Pit’s at all. “It’s cotangent, right? That’s one over tangent, which is the same thing as cosine over sine. So your cosines cancel out.”

Pit quickly scribbled down what Link said, scrunching his face in confusion. “So then… cosecant is one over sine?”

“Those are the same thing.”

“RIGHT! So that’s it?”

“Yup.”

“Nice!” Pit exclaimed, grinning. “You’re pretty good at this math stuff, huh?”

Link looked off to the side in humble embarrassment. “It’s really pretty simple. At least, I think so.”

“Ah, not to me. I suck at math! And most things, actually...”

They stared at each other awkwardly for a moment. Eventually, Link turned back to his own work, trying to ignore the fact that Pit was still standing beside him, holding his notebook close to his chest.

“...Is it, uh, okay if I sit next to you?” Pit eventually asked.

Link nodded, not looking up from his work.

Pit silently pulled out a chair from under the table, sliding it over a good few feet away from where Link was sitting. Link peered over to watch him as he scrawled more stuff in his notebook, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

He suddenly looked up, staring directly into Link’s eyes.

Ah, there were the weird vibes again.

“Link, what’s the difference between sine squared of x and sine of x squared?”

“Well, you either square sine of x, or just x.”

“Oh.”

Evidently, Pit had just wanted to use him to answer all his math problems for him. Link smirked to himself. That was fine with him at this point.

A few minutes of silence passed.

Pit leaned over again. “What’re you doing?”

“Don’t you have your own work to do?” Link responded, absentmindedly.

“I’m done.”

Wow. That was fast. “Well, uh,” Link started, “It’s calculus.”

“Oh, right. What’s calculus about?”

“Um… graphs. And what they do.”

“What are you solving?”

“It’s a multivariable derivative,” Link said, pointing to his own work. “You find the slopes of graphs at various points with them.”

Pit snorted. “I’m not even going to pretend I know what that means.”

“Then, why ask?”

He stopped, and then slid back over to his side of the table. “I dunno. Kinda curious? Since I probably won’t ever take calculus, at this rate.”

Link hesitated, noticing Pit’s sudden flustered expression. “Just trying to make conversation?” he suggested, not wanting to make Pit feel like an intrusive idiot.

“Uh, not if I’m bothering you…” Pit eked out, a bit hopefully.

Oh, screw it. Calc homework could wait until later. Impulsively, Link pushed his work off to the side, and faced Pit, leaning his head against one hand. “Nah, you’re fine. I don’t feel like doing math right before math class, anyways.”

What was he doing, trying to talk to this total stranger? Link was definitely  _ not  _ a conversationalist. He was, in fact, the conversation killer. He’d just make the whole scene an awkward mess. Good thing Pit seemed to… not care much about that fact.

Pit paused, not really expecting that response, and unsure how to continue. “Uh...”

“Where’d you move from?”

“OH! Well, my mom and me used to live in California, but then she got a new job over here, so we moved all the way across the country. I think I like it better over here, actually. Mostly because there isn’t the same weather every day. Where I’m from, it’s like… seventy degrees, all the time.”

“I thought you said you moved a lot?”

“Uh, yeah, but never  _ this _ far before,” Pit stammered. 

Link smirked. “Well, we’ll see how much you like it here when it gets down to twenty degrees in the winter. It’s awful.”

“Hey, I’ve never experienced winter before! I’m kind of excited for snow… and stuff. Does it snow a lot here?”

“No. Lots of cold rain, though, if you’re into that.”

“Huh.”

Pit tapped his pencil on the table. Link brushed his hair out of his eyes.

“So,” Pit coughed, “Do you think you’re gonna go to college?”

“Well, yeah,” Link said, rolling his eyes. “Probably to some top school or something to major in business.”

“You don’t really want to, do you?”

Link’s eyes widened for just a brief second, feeling a bit called out. Seemed like Pit was actually more perceptive than he initially thought. “Yeah, isn’t that the truth,” Link conceded. “I want to go to cooking school, but that...probably wouldn’t work out.”

“Wait, you can cook?”

“Yeah.” Link blushed a bit, from slight embarrassment. “You should come over sometime, I’ll make something for you.”

“Really?”

“Sure.”

Agh, what was he doing, inviting this random person he barely knew over to his house? Link absolutely  _ never _ did that, and for good reason, too. Link’s normally awkward, quiet demeanor would kill whatever was happening here at school, and that would quickly be the end of that. It’s what always happened.

However, Pit didn’t seem to be… put off, at least so far. There was that.

“Heh, that would be cool,” Pit exclaimed. “I suck at cooking! And my mom’s even worse. You should teach me some stuff.”

“I’m not  _ that _ good…”

“Says the guy who wants to go to cooking school.”

“Oh, come on. Cooking schools have a really high acceptance rate. You don’t have to be  _ great _ to get in.” Link shifted in his seat. “Besides, it’s not like I’m going to end up going, anyways.”

“You should, if you want to,” Pit stated, looking at Link with a determined expression. “You don’t need to get a business major or whatever to succeed. That’s what my mom always says!”

Ha. If only it was as easy as just saying that. 

“If it makes you feel better,” Pit continued, “I don’t even know what I’m gonna do after graduating! I’m probably going to end up taking a gap year or something. Get a job… somewhere. See, I don’t even know what _ that  _ would be! Or, wait, sometimes I think I’d like to be a pilot and fly planes. I’ve always thought flying would be really cool, so that’s probably the closest I’m ever going to get. Although, I don’t know if I’d be any good at piloting. Seems kind of complicated. Have you ever been in a plane before?”

Link just nodded, a little taken aback by how much Pit was able to blather on.

“Oh, that’s good. You’d be missing out, otherwise. And, do you want to hear something funny? On the flight over here, I got stuck sitting next to some guy listening to heavy metal with his headphones turned up all the way the entire time. And let me tell you, if I have to hear one more metal song ever again, I’m going to lose it. But, you know, I’m the kind of person that likes listening to  _ classical _ music, so I don’t really like metal in the first place. How that guy isn’t deaf by now, I’ll never know.” 

Pit suddenly stopped, went a little red, and looked down at his feet. “But that’s uh, not really relevant to what you were saying…”

Link laughed lightly. “Oh, nah, it’s okay. I’m not great at talking. So it’s nice when other people can go on and on.”

“Well, that’s good. I usually can’t shut up!”

“That kind of works out for us, huh?”

“I guess it does,” Pit grinned, looking back up at Link. Those blue eyes were still otherworldly, but now, a little bit more familiar.

Pit then suddenly leaned down and fumbled around in his messenger bag for a second, before pulling out his phone. “Wait, can I give you my number? In case we ever want to hang out, you know?”

Oh, wait, they were actually being serious about it? Link didn’t really expect Pit to be so forward (as neither of his two other friends/friends-acquaintances-people-he-knew were), but he wasn’t about to object.

“Uh, sure.”

Link just dictated his number. Pit had to look his own up in his contacts list.

“You don’t have your number memorized?” Link said, smiling a bit.

“Well, I don’t exactly do number-handouts very often. Most people don’t really want to talk to me, ‘cause they think I’m annoying,” Pit responded, a bit too casually for what he had just said.

Link frowned. Annoying? Pit’s tendency to prattle on a lot seemed more charming than anything else. “Huh. That sucks,” he remarked.

“Oh, I just take it in stride. You can’t really be friends with everyone, after all.”

Pit, unfortunately, seemed to be really good at taking things in stride, Link thought. “Uh, if it makes you feel better, I don’t think you’re annoying,” he said, absentmindedly messing with a strand of his hair.

Pit’s expression softened, and he looked down to the ground, almost as if his whole demeanor had changed. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

The pleasant chord of the schoolbell then played over the loudspeaker, as if it was perfectly timed to break off their conversation. Pit sprang out of his seat, usual excitement returning to him. “Guess we gotta go now. What class do you have next?”

Link shoved his books into his backpack. “Calculus.”

“Oh, no, was your homework for today?” Pit asked worriedly.

“Ha, I don’t procrastinate like that. The teacher just assigns all the homework at the start of the week in case we want to start early… for some reason. I was working on the stuff for tomorrow’s class.”

Pit sighed in relief. “Good! I was going to feel bad, otherwise.” He suddenly turned, bouncing off towards the side entrance of the library. “I’ll see you around, I guess?” He called, looking over his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Link called back.

Again, Link watched him leave.

He left the library to walk to Calculus, on the other side of the building, in thought.

In his four years at Ninten Academy, Link had only managed to make two friends (yeah, yeah, or one friend/acquaintance/person-he-knew), both in his freshman year, as a result of his circumstances, and not exactly of his own will.

In the span of a twenty-five minute lunch period, he’d managed to have an entire conversation  _ and  _ exchange numbers with some random person he’d met one time on the bus a few days ago.

What  _ was _ it about Pit?

Well, he supposed it didn’t really matter why. Link was just happy to have another friend. Potentially. He still hesitated to throw that title around.

He hummed contentedly to himself, walking down the hall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of them won't shut up, and the other one usually has nothing to say.  
> It's a funny dynamic.


	6. V. A Giant Hand Descends from the Sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the faintest beginnings of the end.
> 
> \---

_ The Ninten Direct _

_ Your Latest in Online Ninten Academy News Updates _

_ by Samantha Squirt, Ivy Sorel, Charlie Zarr, and Red Trainor, Direct editors _

_ \--Myth Monday, edition XXIV-- _

_ by Samantha Squirt. _

_ First of all, welcome back to school, and welcome back to Myth Monday! I’ll be continuing my series of articles again this year, since you all seemed to like them so much last time.  _

_ Here’s an interesting old legend that has faded into obscurity: an old creation myth that seems to have originated from the era of some of our planet’s first civilizations. It’s not the most original tale I’ve ever heard, but it is very old, and I think that must be worth something, especially when most have never heard of it before. _

_ Two deities existed before anything else, each one representing order and chaos, respectively. They despised each other, as they could not coexist; but reaching a place of stalemate, they decided to turn their powers to utility and created the world of which we know today. Following their prominence is a whole pantheon of other gods… not much is known of them, as most sources I could find did not mention them.  _

_ What sticks out in particular to me is the army of a thousand hands these two gods were said to deploy. But where might the hands come from? Did each god have a thousand arms, capable of extending anywhere in the universe? Were the hands themselves sentient, or were they simple minions? I’d like to imagine it’s the first. A divine being with that many arms would definitely be hilarious to look at. _

_ It’s certainly interesting to think of how a mythology develops, is it not? _

\----

September 5th, 2019. Three hundred days out.

That morning, DP woke up with the sinking realization that he had only three hundred days left. Just three hundred. He’d already killed way, way too much time doing nothing.

Today, he had to commit to action.

Today, he was going to get Link in on this whole thing.

Impulsively, he grabbed his phone off the floor, and shot Link a message:

**ratchorus** : hey.

**ratchorus** : let’s do something after school today.

Link, punctual as ever, responded almost immediately:

**handsoffmykakariko** : uh like what?

**ratchorus** : i don’t know. go to smash pizza.

**ratchorus** : or the roost. there’s probably less people there.

**handsoffmykakariko** : well i am going over to zeldas later

**handsoffmykakariko** : to do homework

Oh, come on. He was busy? On a day like TODAY?

...Whatever. Zelda could be in on the secret, too, it didn’t really matter.

**ratchorus** : you guys can do that at a cafe. it’ll be more fun than a depress-fest at her dad’s place.

**handsoffmykakariko** : let me ask first

**handsoffmykakariko** : ok she says yes

**ratchorus** : perfect. meet me at 4.

**handsoffmykakariko** : k

DP sighed, rubbing his tired eyes. He still had to suffer through yet another day of school first.

\----

Several hours later, he was sitting at a table for four on the top deck of The Roost, a well-loved local coffee shop often frequented by those who preferred to take life slow. Fortunately, nobody else was up there, except an old elderly couple sitting at the far edge. Hopefully they wouldn’t hear anything of DP’s inevitably nonsensical explanations.

Part of him felt a little out of place at a… cutesy place like this cafe. It was all soft colors and wooden tables and ivy growing around trellises decorating the rooftop, and he sat right in the middle of it, looking like a stereotypical mall goth from a decade and a half ago. 

The other part of him couldn’t be bothered to give a shit about that. The cafe was pleasant to sit around in, and had some damn good coffee.

After thirty minutes of sitting around, Link arrived, with Zelda in tow.

“You’re late,” DP scoffed, raising his eyebrows.

Zelda sheepishly placed her bag on the floor, sitting down. “So sorry… I left my phone at home, so we went to go get it, and then my father stopped me to harass me about stuff…”

He shrugged. “Sucks for you.”

“We can’t all have parents like yours, DP,” Link sarcastically added.

This would have been the perfect moment for a ‘Well, about that..,’ to segue into his explanation, but DP chickened out instinctively. “Anyone want a drink or some food or something?” he offered, shooting out of his seat.

“I’ll have a blueberry muffin. Make sure it’s warmed, please!” Zelda requested, leaning down to grab her schoolbooks out of her bag.

“Water is fine,” Link said.

DP stumbled towards the stairway to the main level. “I’ll be back.”

While waiting for his order to be ready, he looped back onto thinking about what to say to Link. He’d been considering his words all day at school, but hadn’t really come to a definitive answer. He had to sound believable, first of all. That was the hard part. One does not exactly talk about gods and angels and the end of the world without sounding like a delusional child too involved with their own imagination. 

It’s not like he didn’t have proof, though. He had a pair of wings and an arsenal of magic weapons to show off, if he needed to. 

It would go fine.

Obviously.

He couldn't help his hands from shaking a bit as he carried the tray of food and drinks up the stairs.

Link and Zelda were thoroughly embroiled in their homework when DP returned to the table.

“Zelda, what’s the derivative of tangent?”

“It’s secant squared x.”

DP slammed their respective orders in front of them. “You’re served.”

“Thanks,” Zelda stammered, narrowing her eyes at him.

She’d never really liked DP that much-- and he was thoroughly aware of this fact. He was far too abrasive most of the time to be any fun to hang around. Sure beat hanging with her dad, though.

DP watched as the two of them went back to working. 

He was going to have to say something, at some point. Otherwise he’d have gathered them for nothing.

Well, they were busy. He’d wait for them to be done. He also had homework he could do, anyways.

Two hours later, Link and Zelda were still hard at work. DP had blazed through his assignments as fast as possible, gone to the bathroom twice, ordered another coffee for himself, finished said coffee, watched the elderly couple leave, and had still found time to idly sit around on his phone.

“You all gonna be done any time soon?” he asked unenthusiastically.

Link shrugged. “I’m almost done. Dunno if Zelda is, though.”

“Why’d you bring us here, if you were just going to watch us work the whole time?” Zelda asked.

It’s now or never, DP thought, swallowing his fear.

“Well--”

And then, an explosion went off in the distance. 

DP didn’t see it, but he certainly heard it, resonating through the streets below.. Link jumped out of his seat in surprise, and Zelda clutched the edge of the table.

What the _ fuck  _ was that?

“Oh, my God,” Zelda breathed, face contorted with fear and adrenaline. “Go downstairs! Get in the building!” She grabbed Link’s wrist, and after a moment of hesitation, grabbed DP’s too, making a mad dash for the staircase. DP jerked his hand free and ran over to the balcony, squinting out into the evening distances.

A fire had begun to smoke, presumably where the explosion had occurred, but there was… something else, in his field of vision.

“What are you doing? Get over here!” Zelda seethed.

Link grabbed Zelda’s shoulders, pointing at something in the sky. “Wait,” he breathed. “You see that?”

“See what--”

Her eyes widened. Link squeezed her shoulder a little harder. 

DP’s normally collected expression fell to one of absolute terror.

A giant, floating hand was making its way down from the sky, wiggling fingers firing lasers out of their tips at random.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, SHIT!” DP yelled, frantically running around the deck.

Well, that’s it. Galeem and Dharkon had somehow found him, and wanted to exterminate his face from the entire universe, regardless of whether or not he’d actually done anything to oppose them yet. Surely, the rest of the Divine Army would be after him in a few moments.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Link shouted, running over to where DP was standing, frozen, with his head in his hands.

“They’re after me,” DP moaned. 

“What?”

“They’re AFTER ME!!” he repeated, like some sort of deranged, broken record. They were after him, they’d heard from somewhere he was crafting a plan, and they wanted him obliterated--

Wait, wait, wait a second. It was just one Crazy Hand for now, right? He could… he could probably take it on his own. Dodging lasers was easy, and that’s all the hands really did. Shoot lasers. Five minutes of flight would probably last him long enough.

Another explosion resounded through the skies. Shit. He had to get up there. Like, right now.

Without much more thought, he yanked his jacket off, tied it around his waist, summoned his wings and staff, and made a break for the ledge. He would have made it off, if someone hadn’t grabbed his wrist again-- this time, by Link.

He stared up at DP with a thoroughly confused expression. “What the  _ hell  _ are you doing?”

DP stood backed up against the ledge, looking from Link, to Zelda, who was pressed against the stairwell in fear, and then back to Link again. “Well-- um--” Take a breath, idiot. “There’s a bunch of shit I need to explain, but if you don’t want to die right now, I gotta  _ go _ .”

“Do  _ what? _ ”

“Kill that hand! Obviously!” 

Link and Zelda watched in abject horror as DP, without another word, vaulted over the ledge, and off the building. Seemed like he was a goner, until they spotted his dark figure taking off into the skies towards the hand, a trail of violet following his path.

Zelda eventually peeled herself away from the stairwell wall and stumbled over to Link, who was leaning off the balcony, trying to watch the action in the distance. “Did you… did you know he could do that?”

“Not at all,” Link exhaled, slowly shaking his head in incredulity.

“Sh-should we go inside?”

One of the hand’s white lasers was fired at DP’s silhouette, but he appeared to dodge in a twirl before firing a matching shot of his own. 

“You know,” Link started, a look of realization crossing his face, “I think he knows what he’s doing.”

\----

It had  _ really _ been a hot second since DP had actually fought anything of this caliber. Hopefully he still had the skills. It took him a bit to find his balance in the air, but soon he oriented himself and sped directly towards the giant hand. 

Thank the gods Viridi just gave him the Power of Flight to use whenever he wanted. She’d gotten tired of having to activate it for him every time he wanted to do some dumbass thing.

A Crazy Hand, of course, wouldn’t respond to an approach. It would just keep firing its lasers haphazardly. A good and bad thing-- good, because DP could easily outsmart it. Bad, because an errant, unaimed shot could easily destroy himself or an indefensible city block.

DP gritted his teeth, taking aim with his staff. Hitting it square in the palm would probably knock it out of the air. He did also have his silver bow on standby, so he could just whale at its body with the separated blades once it hit the ground.

He fired a shot. It missed, as the hand suddenly jerked to the right. 

Really unlucky, actually. That seemed to have alerted it to his presence. The hand slowly turned in the direction of the shot.

Could it… Could it tell DP was there?

Apparently, yes, as a barrage of lasers was suddenly fired towards where he was hovering. DP managed to skillfully weave around most of them, before escaping further up into the sky; the missed shots instead landed on the street below, shattering the asphalt and setting fire to a parked car.

DP grimaced. Hopefully, no one was watching. He didn’t want to be the guy responsible for city-wide property damage. He’d been to prison once. Didn’t need to make that twice.

He didn’t really get a moment to gain his bearings, as the hand went back to randomly firing shots. He dodged around the ones coming towards him, attempting to approach the hand, hoping that its aim would be worse if its target was close.

Bad idea. As he tried to take another shot at the hand with his staff, a laser hit him on the wing, sending him tumbling down towards the ground. He instinctively grabbed onto a lamppost to stop his trajectory, then slid to the ground.

“Shit,” he groaned, under his breath. Well, he could still move his wing, so he was probably fine.

Couldn’t land a shot on that dumb hand, though. Maybe he needed to start firing aimlessly, too. The windows he’d inevitably destroy could deal with it.

So he launched himself back into the air, readied his staff, and started blindly shooting. The hand started jerking awkwardly, so DP assumed he’d managed to get a good few shots in; using that opening, he charged through the air, now directly firing at it. All of them hit the hand straight in the palm, and just as DP had suspected, it fell to the ground, unable to support itself for the moment.

Marksmanship is still on point, DP thought, smirking.

Time to put it out of its misery. He exchanged his staff for the bow, yanked it apart, and slashed downwards on its recovering body. It tried to fire some more lasers in retaliation, but they just shot uselessly off into the sky. A good few strikes later, and its body immaterialized, into a puff of smoke, fading from existence.

He looked towards the sky, panting.

No more hands. He was expecting more.

“Fuckers.”

Better get out of here before anyone sees you. 

Using the remainder of his five minutes of flight, he launched up to the top of some random roof, taking off in the direction of The Roost.

Looking down, he could see a number of locations in the general area that were slightly on fire, engulfed in a column of steam. Seems like the police and the firepeople had managed to get on the scene pretty fast.

What did Galeem and Dharkon want, sending exactly one Crazy Hand to attack him?

...Whatever. He still needed to get back to Link and Zelda and explain what the hell just happened.

\----

“I’m back,” DP announced unceremoniously, landing back on the deck of The Roost after parkouring his way across a number of building tops.

Link jumped in surprise. Zelda marched over to DP, expression filled with a fearful anger, immediately demanding answers. “ _ What  _ just happened?”

“Give me a second,” he breathed in exasperation, grabbing Link’s untouched glass of water from their table, and sitting down. Link cautiously joined him at the table. Zelda did too, after glancing around the skies one more time. “Well, to preface this whole thing, can I just assume you’ll believe whatever I tell you, after all that? Because what I’m gonna say will sound like I’m making bullshit up out of my ass.”

Zelda crossed her arms. “Potentially.”

“Uh. Well, first things first, the world's supposed to end in exactly three hundred days--”

“Really.”

“Let me finish,” DP scoffed. “Have you ever heard of the gods Galeem and Dharkon?”

Link shook his head. Zelda did, as well, after a moment of pondering.

“Gods of order and chaos--”

“Oh, wait,” Zelda suddenly interjected. “You just fought a giant hand-- and these order and chaos guys have an  _ army  _ of a thousand hands, right? I read an article about… maybe the same thing. Samantha Squirt wrote an article about it in the Ninten Direct on Monday?”

“I wouldn’t know. I don’t read that crap.”

“It’s not crap. It’s actually quite interesting, for a school newspaper.”

“Well, whether it’s crap or not, this Squirt person was probably onto something,” DP suggested, fishing an ice cube out of his cup of water and popping it into his mouth.

“So,” Zelda continued, brows furrowed, “Do you know these… order and chaos gods?”

“Fuck, no. As if I could ever get the chance,” he scoffed. “But I know that whatever you read in that article isn’t a myth. They actually made the world a long time ago, and now they’re trying to destroy it-- that’s why we’re all dead in three hundred days, like I said. That hand was probably sent to kill me, since I’m trying to stop them from doing that.”

“Why, exactly, are they destroying everything?”

“I legitimately have no idea. None of the other gods I’ve talked to know why. But they all seem to go along with it, for some reason.”

“So there  _ are  _ other gods.”

“Yes, there’s other gods, you dolt.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Zelda grumbled, leaning back in her chair. “I’m trying to make sense of all of this… it just sounds like a lot of coincidental nonsense to me.”

“A giant hand just descended out of the sky and tried to kill me, and your little newspaper’s clearly corroborating everything I’ve said. At this point, you should be willing to believe  _ anything. _ ”

“Uh,” Link piped up, breaking the debate, as the two others turned to face him. “You seem to know about this stuff… so what _ are  _ you, DP?”

DP blinked. That was kind of a loaded question. 

“...An angel. Supposed to serve one of the gods unconditionally, but obviously, I never really wanted to do that. So I ditched them to live on Earth. Been doing so for the last thousand years, or something.”

“So you can magically grow wings and summon weapons whenever you want?”

“Um, that is one of the perks, yeah.”

Link grinned. “Cool.”

“I guess.” He rolled his eyes. Glad to see there was  _ some _ levity in the situation.

“So, wait-- actually, this might be sort of relevant to… whatever’s happening here,” Link suddenly said, changing the topic. “I’ve been having this recurring dream lately, about hands descending from the sky… just like that.”

Oh, wait. If Link was having dreams like that, then it likely wasn’t DP the Crazy Hand was after. “If that’s true, then… the hand was probably after  _ you _ .”

Link just stared back at him in confusion. 

And here comes the hard part. DP inhaled sharply, considering his words for a moment before elaborating.

“Okay, okay, I’ve, uh, been meaning to mention this to you for… a while now. You’re going to find a magical sword in the near future, and use it to help orchestrate this whole apocalypse mess.”

“Uh. What?”

“See, DP, this is all nonsense,” Zelda protested.

DP cringed to himself, but stood his ground. “I mean exactly what I said.”

Link sank down in his seat, just a bit. “How can you tell?”

“Look at your left hand,” DP instructed. Link tentatively held it out, examining it with confusion in his eyes, and Zelda glanced over his shoulder to look at it as well. “It’s the triangle mark.”

“DP, that’s just his birthmark--”

“Zelda,” Link interrupted, “What kind of birthmark is a perfect triangle?”

Zelda narrowed her eyes, but said nothing more, leaning back in her seat.

“See, the point is, Galeem and Dharkon reset the universe every once in a while, so they destroy all the matter and reform it again however they like. This magic sword is supposed to… gather all this destroyed stuff in a singularity when it does happen,” DP continued. “And they get some random mortal to do this so they don’t have to die when the next big bang happens.”

Zelda had many, many questions pertaining to this, and DP was willing to answer... some of them. Frankly, he didn’t quite expect her to be so interested in his strange explanation, in spite of how skeptical she was acting.

Link, on the other hand? He sat and listened, but said nothing, blank stare focused on nothing in particular. What was he thinking?

In the end, DP made the two of them promise that they wouldn’t tell a soul about the explanation of the night’s events to anyone else. Not like either of them intended to-- it was all too bogus to make sense without any proof.

Didn’t stop the three of them from leaving The Roost that night with a pit of existential dread growing in their respective stomachs.

\----

When DP finally made it back to his car, he exhaled forcefully, the adrenaline of the past hour or so finally leaving his system. God, he wanted nothing more than to just fall asleep, right there. Hopefully he wouldn’t doze off on the road and crash the car. 

His phone buzzed. It was Meggy.

**inkl1ing** : imma assume whatevr jus happened was ur fault

**inkl1ing** : it was kinda sick doe

**inkl1ng** : with the explosions andthe giant hand

**inkl1ng** : gettin a lil handsy 8)

**ratchorus** : shut the fuck up.

**ratchorus** : it wasn’t after me. it was going for link.

**inkl1ng** : oh fun fun!

**inkl1ing** : i guess u filled him in then

**ratchorus** : obviously.

**inkl1ing** : did u draft him into our group?

**ratchorus** : uh.

**ratchorus** : not yet. 

**inkl1ing** : then hurry up, mothafucka!

Whatever just happened was enough for one night. He’d get around to doing that later.

Eventually.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not my favorite chapter, by a long shot.  
> But it is what it is.


	7. VI. Something Outside Your Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> stop being so deliberately obtuse.
> 
> \----

_ The Ninten Direct _

_ Your Latest in Online Ninten Academy News Updates _

_ by Samantha Squirt, Ivy Sorel, Charlie Zarr, and Red Trainor, Direct editors _

_ \--The Mysterious Thursday Racket-- _

_ By Red Trainor _

_ Multiple reports came out last Thursday evening of a mysterious UFO in the sky, causing explosions right around the intersection of Cypress Lane and Park Street. Authorities have been unable to pinpoint exactly what this UFO was, but some of our student sources have their own perspectives on the matter. According to Ninten sophomore Nick “Sonic” Hedges, it was a… _

_ “Weird floating white thing in the sky. It was wiggling around like crazy, and it was shooting beams out of its fingers all over the place. I was buying a hot dog at 7-11 when I heard an explosion, so I ran as fast as I could to where it was. I was too slow, though. It was gone in, like, five minutes.” _

_ We’re still looking for evidence to prove this, so if you have anything you’d like to share, please email me. I am always looking for deets! _

\----

September 7th, 2019. Two hundred and ninety-eight days out.

News of the… paranormal event that had happened on Thursday evening quickly spread throughout the local news. Those who were around to see it and hadn’t run for their lives could have sworn a giant hand was causing the destruction, though it was beginning to be explained away as a hard-to-distinguish drone, undetectedly flying through the darkened sky.

A few others insisted that some person with a pair of wings and a strange staff had taken the hand down, but fortunately for said person, no concrete material evidence surfaced.

DP laughed to himself, scrolling through local news articles online. Seems like he was becoming a cryptid of sorts. Not the first time that had happened to him in his life, of course, but it was funny every time.

Link, on the other hand, wanted to put the events of that night as far out of his mind as possible. If he thought about them any more, his brain would probably explode.

Did he believe a word of what DP had told him? Zelda had told him she didn’t really think any of DP’s explanations were legitimate-- not on a scientific basis, and not by a logical one, either; but his friend-acquaintance-person-he-knew was also clearly magical, and at this point, Link was willing to believe anything was possible.

Not that he  _ wanted  _ anything to be possible. Link was a normal kid, trying to pass through his last year of school as lightly as he could. He’d rather not get himself embroiled in ‘chosen one’ nonsense straight out of a work of fiction.

That’s how he worked up the courage to invite Pit over to his home on that Saturday night-- he was now the only person Link knew that wasn’t aware of the… apocalypse thing. It was the perfect opportunity; his father was away for dinner at some friend’s house, so the two of them wouldn’t have to deal with his unwanted presence.

Great! Now he could spend his time stressing about making a good impression on his friend, instead of stressing about the potential end of the world. 

...He really needed to stop  _ stressing _ so much.

When asked what he’d like for dinner, Pit just responded with a, ‘whatever you want!’ After a period of frantic brainstorming, Link landed on meat skewers: they were easy to make, and pretty inoffensive. Plus, he already had all the stuff he needed for them in the fridge. Mushrooms and meat. How do you hate that?

Pit was supposed to arrive at 6:00. While waiting, Link made the food, set the table, unset the table (too fancy), set the table again (he didn’t want to fumble around for dishes while Pit sat around awkwardly), put all the silverware on the counter instead, ate a bag of chips, fed his dog, and then decided to just wait on the couch, and get his mind off things by blankly scrolling around on his phone.

At 5:58, there was a very light knock on the door, followed by a tentative, ‘Hello?’

Link jolted off the sofa, took a deep breath, and quickly shuffled over to the door.

The two of them stared at each other for a brief moment before Pit said, “It smells like food in here.”

“Well, that’s because there  _ is _ food in here,” Link chuckled.

“Yeah, that would make sense.”

He silently observed Pit, with a sweater sloppily tied around his waist, clutching onto the strap of a small messenger bag, shifting his weight from foot to foot in anticipation. At the very least, he also seemed… nervous? Maybe? In the sense that he was worried about making a good first impression.

There was a small amount of relief in that.

“Uh… want to come in?” Link offered, in an attempt to show some comforting hospitality.

“Y-yeah!”

As soon as Pit stepped in through the doorway, he was assaulted by Link’s dog-- very friendly, despite the fact that he slept most of the time. Pit yelped, dropping his bag to the ground.

Freaking out, Link grabbed Twilight around the waist, and dragged him off to the side. “Sorry!” he apologized, cringing to himself. “Sorry, I forgot, he gets kind of excited about guests…”

Great first impression, Link.

“Oh, no, you’re fine,” Pit insisted. “I just haven’t seen a dog in person in  _ forever… _ ”

“Really? There’s dogs all over the place.”

Pit, who had dropped to the floor and was furiously rubbing Twilight’s head, suddenly stopped, paling just the slightest bit. “...My mom’s super allergic, so I try to stay really far away from them. But this one is just the goodest boy! Hi buddy! Hiiii! What’s, uh, their name?”

“Twilight. He sleeps most of the time, so this might be all you’ll see of him.”

“TWILIGHT! You’re a baby boy!”

Link smirked to himself. He was an avid dog person, so it was nice to see Pit lost all of his brain cells when looking at one, too.

Eventually, Twilight settled back down on his dog bed, and the two of them stood there for a moment, staring at each other once again. Link glanced around behind him to look at his food before speaking up. “Do you, uh, wanna eat?”

“Yes!” Pit replied enthusiastically. 

“It’s meat skewers. Is that alright?”

“Hey. If it’s not salad, I’ll eat it. Or eggplants. Actually, I guess you could technically put that in a salad, which makes it, like, ten times worse.”

Link laughed lightly, bringing over the stuff from the counter and setting it on the table. “Well, I didn’t make any eggplant salads, so you’re in luck.”

Dinner was quite pleasant. As what usually seemed to be the case, Pit did most of the talking, in between giant mouthfuls of food. Link was content to just sit and listen— didn’t matter what on earth Pit was talking about, whether it was about his many opinions on food, or his mother’s aggressive dog allergy, or anything else.

“You know, this stuff is  _ really  _ good. Like, I know I’d eat almost anything, but it’s  _ really  _ good!” Pit commented. 

Link looked off to the side, smiling just a bit at Pit’s lack of eloquence. “You think so?”

“Well, yeah! I wouldn’t lie about this stuff.”

“Thanks.”

“You got any seconds?”

“Yeah, it’s all at the stove, if you wanna serve yourself. Take it all, if you want. We’ve got way too many leftovers here already.”

“Will do!”

How… sweet of him.

As Pit was away at the stove, Link’s phone vibrated in his pocket. Great, looks like his father was calling. 

“Hey, my dad’s calling. Give me a sec,” Link announced, before standing up and ducking into the hall. 

Pit then stopped what he was doing and tried to listen into the conversation over the phone, unnoticed by Link. Though he couldn’t make out what Link’s father was saying, he could at least hear Link himself. 

“...Hello. How are you?...That’s nice…”

Link fidgeted with the sleeve of his jacket, brows furrowing. “No, father, I can’t go to the store. I’ve got a friend over… No, it’s not Zelda, I can’t just leave him here… Pit Halloway. I met him recently.”

He sighed, turning away from the phone. “Dad, do I really have to tell you every single time someone comes over?”

Pit quickly looked back down at his plate at those words. 

“...Okay. I’m sorry. I’ll tell you next time… Goodbye. See you soon.”

Link shuffled back over towards the table, slightly exasperated after having his good time dampened by his father’s stern annoyance. Pit had probably heard the whole thing, connected the dots, and probably felt responsible or something. 

“Sorry,” Link muttered. “Forgot to tell my dad you’re here.” That was intentional, but whatever. “He doesn’t like when I don’t keep him updated about every single thing in my life.”

Pit frowned, not really sure what to say.

Link noticed. “But, you probably don’t want to hear all that right now.”

“Well, if you need to talk about it…”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Link interjected, desperate to prevent things from becoming even more uncomfortable than they already were. “I’m just annoyed he interrupted.”

Pit suddenly started staring at a fake plant on a table by the wall. “I mean, you can’t really control what your parents do,” he said, more quietly than before. 

Link rubbed his eyes. “I guess not.”

Yet another moment of awkward silence passed between the two, neither one looking at the other. 

“Let’s do something else,” Link blurted out.

“Like what?”

Well, geez. What was a normal thing to do with friends over at each other’s houses? Watch a movie? Play a card game? Normally, he and Zelda just ranted to each other about their lives, and then with DP… well, he’d never been to DP’s house, and vice versa.

“What do you normally do at home?” he asked, trying to generate ideas. 

Pit looked a little taken aback. “Uh, not much… usually… I just hang around, and stuff. I’m pretty good at entertaining myself.” Sounded rather dull, to be honest, but that’s basically how Link tended to spend his time, too. What did he do when he was sitting around at home… 

Oh, wait. “...Well, want to play Magnificent Mash Sisters?” 

“What’s that?”

“You’ve never heard of Magnificent Mash Sisters? It’s great. You’ll love it. It’s a fighting game,” Link answered, quickly running over to the TV across from the sofa and turning it on. “Here, take this.”

Pit stared down quizzically at the controller being placed into his hands. “Oh, wait, is this a video game?”

“Yeah, obviously.” After booting the game up, he grabbed Pit by the wrist and led him over to the sofa, seating both of them on it. “See, the point is, you pick some guy to fight as, and then you duke it out with whoever you’re playing with. Simple as that. I normally play as… Belvedere,” Link explained, selecting a green-haired anime boy on the selection screen. “He’s a medieval knight from a JRPG that got transported to the distant future.”

“That’s a lot of characters,” Pit stammered, squinting to make out the text on the screen. “Which guy do I pick?”

“I dunno, whichever one you like best.”

“How about, um, this one, then!”

Sparrow, the half-bird, half-human hybrid who served as the Falcon Queen’s aid in the sky kingdom, Zepheria. “Why her?” Link asked.

“She looks like she can fly. Since she’s a bird, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well then, that’s why. I like birds.”

And it was on. Link attempted to explain the basics of playing the game: ground attacks versus aerial attacks, charging your Mash moves, recovering from offstage, grabbing your opponents, et cetera, et cetera. Pit, of course, failed to comprehend any of that, instead either constantly falling off of platforms (despite having four jumps and a great recovery), or spamming Sparrow’s feather-bullets from the side of the stage. 

“You know, you really suck at this,” Link commented. 

“Hey! I just killed your guy! I’m doing fine!” Pit sputtered. 

“I think that’s the first time you’ve done that so far. And I’ve  _ won  _ the last four rounds.”

He looked down at his socks in defeat. “...Yeah, I do kinda suck.”

Link shrugged. “Hey, it’s your first time playing. Don’t worry about it!”

Pit, eventually, found a winning strategy: randomly mashing buttons on the controller. To be fair, the game was called ‘Magnificent  _ Mash  _ Sisters’ for a reason. It also helped that Link had given up trying to take the game seriously in order to let Pit win at least a couple of times.

Seeing his dumb, excited grin every time he won a round filled Link withan inexplicable sort of fluttering happiness. Perhaps it was the satisfaction of knowing he seemed to have finally found another friend, after all this time? Someone who was fine to kick around with him, no strings attached.

It was all good fun until about 8:00 pm, when gunshots were heard resounding off the walls of the buildings outside.

Pit dropped his controller on the ground, startled. “...What was  _ that? _ ”

Link’s knee-jerk reaction ws to run and peer out the window on the side of the apartment.

And what else could possibly be outside, except for  _ another  _ giant hand hovering in the sky? Link froze, eyes fixated on its silhouette in fear. Was… had DP shot at it? Was he out there?

Quickly scanning the street below, Link deduced that DP was nowhere to be found. So he yanked his phone out of his pocket, and attempted to start texting him, hands shaking.

Another shot was heard.

“Link, what  _ is _ that?”

“I- I don’t know,” Link rasped. He slid down the wall, curling up into a ball to make himself as small as possible, hoping that the hand wouldn’t be able to sense him. As if that was going to do anything. DP had said the hands were coming for  _ him _ , right? He didn’t even have a means of defending himself, he was going to die, and so was Pit, and probably everyone else in the apartment complex--

A gentle hand was placed on his shoulder, snapping him back to reality. “Are you okay?” Pit asked, worry in his eyes.

Link didn’t say anything. He just kept frantically trying to message DP.

Pit scurried over to the window.

“Hey, what’s that hand?”

“I dunno…”

Pit stared down at Link, a look of expectancy on his face, as if he was trying to communicate… something, to him. Link looked up to meet his gaze, staring at his wide, concerned, blue eyes.

Something registered in Pit’s mind. He turned back to the window. “Um, there’s some people out on the street, and they’ve got guns… I think they’re shooting at it!”

What?

Link jumped up, face pressed against the glass. Sure enough, a group of about seven or so people in obscuring, theatrical outfits were circling the floating hand, taking turns firing at it with their aforementioned guns. And it seemed like they were holding out just fine-- probably even better than DP-- dodging around its aimless lasers with relative ease.

“It’s the Phantom Thieves,” Link realized, eyes widening.

“The who?”

“They’re a local vigilante group. Nobody knows who they are. I think they normally fight crime when the police don’t do anything about it, but, I guess… they’re doing  _ this  _ now?”

The group was well known in the circles of Ninten-- how could they not be? Rebellious and mysterious, they’d managed to hide their true identities from the world for years. People were always theorizing about them. Not even Link was safe from the speculation. He’d seen pictures of them online, but he’d never run into them in person before.

“Oh, wow,” was all Pit said, watching them move.

Having sustained a lot of bullet shots, the hand began descending out of the air, lacking the strength to keep itself afloat anymore. At this indicator, the group backed off, and one of the thieves-- the one in the long black trench coat-- brandished a pair of knives, giving the hand one final, furious flurry of strikes, causing the hand to poof from existence, just like the one from before. They pumped their fists excitedly in victory, before regrouping, and running off down some alleyway, presumably before the authorities would inevitably arrive.

No trace of them was even left, save for a few dents in the asphalt from the missed lasers.

Wow.

...Maybe the Crazy Hands weren’t so frightening, if a group of normal people could take one out. 

Link sighed in relief.

Pit bumped his shoulder. “You okay?”

“Uh-- Yes, I think so now… wasn’t really expecting that. Are you fine?”

“Yeah.” Pit frowned. “But that was, uh,  _ definitely _ weird.”

“Guess the local rumors weren’t lying about a literal giant hand,” Link laughed, attempting to bring some levity to the situation. 

Something indiscernible then crossed Pit’s face. “They weren’t.”

\----

DP had been on high alert for more giant hands the past few days. So when he heard the reports that another one had been spotted-- by Link’s home, no less-- he dropped what he was doing (doodling his cat in a lined notebook while eating leftover Subway at midnight), and discreetly ran all the way to the place the attack had appeared.

Apparently, that weird vigilante group everyone was always talking about had taken it down. So says the internet, at least. Meggy had already circulated a bunch of wild posts surrounding the event on her trash heap of a Twitter profile. DP felt quite idiotic knowing that the humble local heroes had managed to do something about it faster than _he_ had.

Well, nobody knew the hand was coming. It wasn’t at all his fault.

In any case, he was going to have to be even more watchful, if he didn’t want any unnecessary destruction in the future. Surely, there were going to be more hands coming, at this point. 

Great. Didn’t the Supreme Gods have anything better to do than taunt him incessantly?

Rounding a corner, he noticed the flashing lights of police cars in the distance; however, everything in the surrounding area seemed to remain mostly undamaged. If everything was okay right now, it was probably best to come back in the morning, when all the hubbub had died down.

He was exhausted, anyway, after another day full of stressing. All he wanted was to finish his sandwich and go to sleep.

DP hadn’t been walking down the darkened alleyways for more than two minutes, when a voice suddenly called to him from above.

“Pittoo!”

Oh,  _ shit. _

He froze.

His heart skipped a beat, flooding his system with an intense, fear-induced adrenaline.

He turned, slowly, staring up at the roof of a building behind him.

“ _ Pit _ ,” DP began, forcing out the name in a shaking voice, “What are you doing here?”

Pit, perched on top of the building, stared back down at him, otherworldly blue eyes shining, illuminated by the light of the full moon behind him. “Haven’t seen you in a while, huh?”

Yeah, if by a while, you mean several hundred years.

“ _ What _ are you doing here?” DP reiterated.

“Same as you,” Pit answered, still lighthearted, as always. “Curious about the hands.”

Oh, that was a bold lie. “I’m not- I’m not curious about the hands,  _ Pit _ . And you’re not, either. Why’d your goddess send you here?”

“I’m on a mission. That’s all.”

“Stop being so deliberately obtuse,” he sneered.

“It’s none of your business,” Pit said simply.

Shit. He’d hoped he would never have to see Pit again. For him to show up here, of all places, at such a critical time… it kind of made him want to vomit with fear. DP almost replied with a snide remark, repressing the dread at the bottom of his stomach, but then withheld it. If Pit was still in cahoots with the goddess of light-- and let’s be frank, there’s no way he wasn’t-- then DP could at least attempt to squeeze some answers out of him. “Why are the hands being sent here?” he asked, cutting back the confrontational demeanor he had reflexively resorted to.

Pit shrugged. “It’s all very methodical. They’re just after the one with the sword.”

“I already know that, Pit.”

“Then stop meddling.”

“Who do you think you are, telling me what to—“

“You’re meddling with something out of your control, Dark Pit. I know you are, I’ve seen you hanging around Link. Nothing you say to him is going to stop him from doing what he’s supposed to do,” Pit interjected, his casual expression changing uncharacteristically cold. “For your own sake, just… stop.”

DP narrowed his eyes. “So, you must be an agent in this whole doomsday scenario, then.”

“And what about it?”

“I thought  _ you  _ of all people would be better than that.”

Pit didn’t respond, instead looking distantly out into the horizon. 

DP stood there, on the ground, watching him with intense eyes. Completely enigmatic.

Somehow, Pit seemed to be completely unchanged. Not even after all this time. DP was worlds away from him, in that respect.

...Whatever. After a moment of silence, he turned around, continuing on his way home.

He couldn’t sleep that night. 

Logically, Pit was probably sent here to find Link. He was a servant of Palutena, who watched over the human population, so it would make sense that the responsibility of ensuring that Link found his magic sword would fall to her (and him, by extension). 

If so, Pit had probably-- certainly!-- already found Link, and was worming his way into his life, fooling him with that innocent demeanor of his. 

Pit represented everything DP tried not to be: submissive, blindly loyal, unchanging; beholden to some constructed idea of what he was supposed to be, as dictated by those allegedly superior to him.

DP wished it wasn’t so. But that’s just naturally how the two of them were. Irreconcilable opposites, in spite of their many similarities. Maybe even more so than before, now that he had his own life, completely separate from the expectations of being someone’s evil clone.

To see the antithesis of himself be the one to know the details of the cosmic plan-- executing it right under his nose, no less? It nauseated him. Pit was right; as much as he wanted to believe it, DP had absolutely no control over the situation. 

But, of course, simply admitting defeat was not in DP’s nature. 

It’s as Meggy said: if he’s going to get killed anyway (and he probably will, for insubordination), may as well go out with a fight. 

Screw Pit. Screw all the words of the gods he was blindly reiterating. 

He’d already talked to Link. He had allies in Meggy, and probably Zelda, as well, even if she sort of hated his guts. There was a group of vigilantes on the loose who could take down Crazy Hands. And Smash Pizza was full of interesting characters who could put up a fight. 

By the gods, DP was going to assemble the scrappiest team known to all living creatures. And they’d put a dent in the cosmic plan, if it was the last thing they’d ever do. 

  
  
  



	8. VII. The Scrappiest Team in Existence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's time to prove something to these skeptics.
> 
> \----

Here’s a brief recounting of how DP finally managed to begin to recruit some people onto a team (with a lot of egging on from Meggy, of course).

\----

September 9th, 2019. Two hundred and ninety-six days out. 

DP cornered Link outside at lunch that day. Hopefully, this recruitment would be the easy one. Link had seemed to believe what he had been told at The Roost the other night; and why wouldn’t he? You’d have to be a total skeptic to think otherwise.

And if he didn’t, DP would just have to convince him some more. Being aggressive with his words just happened to be something he was incredibly good at.

“You still remember what I said about the hands the other night, yeah?” he started, lunch in hand, purposefully marching up to where Link was seated against the exterior wall of the school building.

“Uh… of course,” Link blinked, a little put off at being interrupted out of his silent contemplation.

“Well, I’ve got a request.”

Link just nodded, taking a large bit of his sandwich, staring at DP with a confused expression.

“I’m trying to make a team of people who’ll help stop the apocalypse. And I want  _ you _ on it,” DP explained, pointing his yogurt spoon at Link.

“I’m, um, supposed to be helping cause it, right?”

“Do you really want that, Link? To help make everyone you’ve ever known and loved die?”

Link frowned. “When you put it like that--”

“Exactly. I don’t really see how you’d have trouble picking a side here.”

Link looked down at his feet. DP paid no mind to his troubled expression, determined to get his point across, no matter how existentially terrifying it was.

“See, if you join me, then suddenly, the lynchpin of this whole operation is just gone. Bam. They won’t know what to do without you,” DP explained, punctuating his sentence with a snap of his fingers.

“They’ll probably have ways of making me do what they want, right?”

DP shrugged. “Well, yeah. But they  _ need  _ you, so they’re not gonna kill you. I fail to see how there’s a problem here.”

Link grimaced, taking another hesitant bite of his sandwich. “I’m pretty sure there’s other ways of trying to convince people to do something besides threatening them with death.”

“You’re tough. You can deal with it. So, are you in or out?” 

He pondered for a moment, brows furrowing in concentration. “I guess I’m in, in that case… but what exactly is your group going to do?”

DP suddenly thought back to his purple piece of cardstock on the wall of his home, distinctly lacking any steps beyond the first. “We’ll, uh, cross that bridge when we get there,” he stated, a sheepish expression spreading across his face. “But doing  _ something  _ is better than sitting on our asses and letting everything go to shit.”

“Whatever you say,” Link shrugged. 

That… was easy. Yay.

Probably due to how easy it was to push Link around, some voice in the back of his head said. But that was something about him that could be easily fixed.

Looks like he’d  _ also  _ managed to get to Link before Pit did.

Good. Everything was starting to fall into place. DP would take any indirect ‘fuck you’ to the other angel that he could get.

\----

Just after their final period, DP caught Meggy in the halls, intent on giving her an update as soon as possible. 

“Link’s officially on the team. Whatever that means.”

Meggy cackled, wrenching DP into an aggressive side-hug. “Ha! So you  _ were  _ actually serious about my idea!”

“Holy shit, don’t touch me,” he groaned, shoving her away. “But, yeah. I am serious about it.”

“Am  _ I _ on your team?”

“YES, obviously you are, you asscrack!”

Meggy threw her hands into the air. “BOOYAH! Let’s go mangle some hands!” 

“Woah, wait. You’ve gotta help me find some more people. Since I know legitimately no one at this school,” DP grunted. It was at times like this that he was grateful he kept Meggy around, in spite of her off-the-walls attitude: she knew a freakish amount about the secret lives of their peers, for some reason or another. 

“Of course, of course,” Meggy reassured. “Let’s go to Smash Pizza. There’s a few people I have in mind there.”

He rolled his eyes. “Yes, you’ve mentioned them before. A few days ago, in fact.”

“Then you already know what you’re getting into. Come on!” She grabbed his wrist, running towards the back entrance, where the parking lot was. DP tried to protest, but eventually resigned himself to getting dragged around. She probably knew what she was about, anyways.

\----

Ness Onett. He’s a freshman at Ninten Academy; a crafty kid with a knack for playing baseball, and a handful of psychic abilities he was mysteriously born with that are great for messing around with. He was known to be found in the arcade in the back of Smash Pizza after school, breaking all the high scores on the games, showing off to the passer-bys. No, he was definitely not cheating with PSI. Not at all. Sure enough, as Meggy had predicted, Ness was right there in his usual spot, surrounded by a group of his friends.

DP certainly felt awkward making his way over towards them, but if he wanted to stop the apocalypse, he was going to have to be a little more aggressive than usual. Yeah, Ness was some random stranger, but he could still give the kid a verbal beatdown.

He still brought Meggy along for moral support, of course.

“Hey.”

He thumped his hands down on the picnic table that Ness and his friends were gathered around. They all stopped their chatter and stared up at him and Meggy, with sudden intrigue on their faces.

“Are you here to challenge Ness?” Some kid with a single tuft of black hair on his head spoke, with a slight air of distaste.

DP rolled his eyes. “No, you dolt.” He turned to stare directly at Ness. “Is it true you have psychic powers?”

Ness stared right back at him, his face breaking out into a smug grin. “You bet. Check this out!” Everyone around the table watched, in varying levels of interest, as Ness levitated his slice of pizza directly into his mouth. His group of friends cheered.

“Dude, that’s sick!” Meggy exclaimed, delighted to have proof that the rumors she’d been following were true. DP just nodded; he was sort of impressed, but then again, he’d seen a lot of stuff in his lifetime that was far more interesting than levitating pizza. Like… himself, for example.

“What else can you do?” DP asked.

“Jeff, gimme your cup,” Ness commanded. The kid in glasses slid his cup of water over to Ness, who grabbed it with his hands. “PK Freeze!”

DP raised an eyebrow. Ness shoved the cup into his face “See? Now it’s frozen.”

“Uh huh. Is that it?”

“Well, there’s PK Fire and PK Flash… but I think I’d get kicked out if I did those in here.”

“Do it anyways.” 

“Mmm… nah. Unless you wanna pay me, or something.”

DP leaned over to Meggy, skeptical of Ness’ capabilities. “Do we  _ actually _ want him on our team?” he whispered.

“Uh, duh!” She whispered back (though really, it was more of a shout-whisper).

Hearing this, the blond kid sitting quietly at the back end of the table piped up. “Sorry to be a little rude… but who exactly  _ are _ you people?”

Aw, crap. Here’s the part DP was dreading. What was he going to say? ‘Hi, I’m DP. I’m a two-thousand year old angel, and I’m creating a plan to stop the literal apocalypse single-handedly, even though I’ll probably get killed by the gods in the process. And I want you, a shrimpy freshman with minimal psychic abilities, to help me stop it! You can join my crew, there’s literally three of us.’

He cringed inwardly, just thinking about it.

Meggy, fortunately, seemed to notice the slightly panicked expression that crossed DP’s face, and butted in. “You’ve heard the news about the giant hands that tried to attack the city, right?”

“R-right?” Ness responded, suddenly confused.

“Well,” she smirked, “THIS guy here beat up the first one!” she exclaimed, slapping DP on the back. “I’m Meggy, and this is DP. We’re forming a team to beat up the hands, and we want  _ you! _ ”

Ness narrowed his eyes. “Prove it.”

“Uh, I can’t exactly do that in here--”

“Show them your gun, DP!”

He stared down at the five kids sitting at the table, looking up at him with skeptical, expectant expressions. Turning to his side, Meggy stared back at him with begging eyes.

“...Fine. If I go to prison for openly carrying a rifle in a pizza joint, I’m blaming you in court,” he muttered. As discreetly as possible, DP summoned his rifle, sort of hiding it under the table while beckoning the others to lean in and see.

“I don’t really see how this proves anything except the fact that you can summon a gun out of your asshole or something,” Ness said blankly.

“Well, what do you want from me? Rumors say it was a guy with wings and a rifle. I got your rifle right here.”

“Show me your wings, then!”

DP and Meggy shared a Look.

“Only if you show us your PK Flames, or whatever,” Meggy conceded, thinking fast.

The blond kid spoke again. “Uh, Ness, I’m not sure this is a good idea--”

Ness put a hand up. “Shut up, Lucas. I gotta prove to these skeptics that I actually  _ mean _ what I say.” He stood up, gesturing Meggy and DP to follow him behind a claw machine. Reluctantly, they walked after him, looking over their shoulders to make sure no one else in the restaurant was watching.

Ness glanced around before staring condescendingly at the other two. “Alright guys. Check this: PK Fire!”

What do you know? Sure enough, a flame appeared in the middle of Ness’ palm. He showed it off for a few seconds before quickly extinguishing it. “If I really wanted to, I could actually commit arson with this. But I basically live in here, so I’m not really intent on doing that. Now, show me your wings.”

“Whatever you say,” DP grunted, rolling his eyes. “ Meggy, make sure no one’s looking.” 

“I gotchu!”

With a sigh, he took off his sweater and summoned his wings, allowing Ness to marvel at them for a moment before vanishing them again.

Ness’ eyes widened. “Huh. What…  _ are _ you?”

“An angel.”

“Like Jesus?”

“NO, not like Jesus, you idiot!”

Ness smirked. “Nah, I’m just messing with you.”

“Great _ , _ ” DP mumbled.

“So, if you really did take down that hand, then I guess I’ll join your team. Beating up some weird guys seems like fun enough,” Ness shrugged.

Oh, wait,  _ that  _ easily? He thought for sure he was going to have to launch into an extended explanation. Guess Ness was kind of a sucker.

“Awesome!” Meggy exclaimed. “We’re meeting this Friday night at DP’s place. I’ll text you the address--”

“--Wait, wait, we are?--”

“--Just give me your number. There’s gonna be a bunch of other people there, too. Bring your friends along if you want!”

DP grimaced as Ness and Meggy exchanged contact information. Seriously? A meeting? In  _ his _ home?

Well, it  _ was _ an empty warehouse, and he  _ did _ buy it for the purpose of combat training. It was almost as if his past self had predicted exactly what was going to happen. Whatever. It was two down-- potentially more, if Ness brought his crew, too.

\----

**inkl1ing created chat at 4:45 pm**

**inkl1ing renamed chat ‘Ninten Fight Club’**

**inkl1ng** : aight folks its meggy!

**inkl1ng** : i know theres jus 4 of us rn, but i figured it would be useful

**inkl1ng** : this is whre im giving updates. stay tuned.

**inkl1ng** : were meeting friday night at 7 pm.

**inkl1ng** : be there or be square.

**ratchorus** : uh. yeah. so this is a thing that’s happening.

**ratchorus** : team name is subject to change, because ‘ninten fight club’ is lame as hell.

**ratchorus** : it’s DP. if you couldn’t tell.

**legitNess** : yknow i didnt get to say this erlier. But dp ur a massive ass

**ratchorus** : thanks. i strive to be a bigger and bigger ass every day.

**ratchorus** : someday my assholery will create an event horizon and you’ll all be sucked in.

**ratchorus** : it will be the end.

**handsoffmykakariko** : I really dont want to think about the image that conjures in my brain.

**legitNess** : ACTUALLY i have a relevent question

**legitNess** : my freind Lucas Tazmily said he wanted to join ur club too.

**legitNess** : he was at the pizza place with me. blond, a bit of a weenie. U know him?

**legitNess** : can i send his # ?

**inkl1ng** : ya sure!

**legitNess** : ok its

**legitNess** : uh i just texted it to u insted

**inkl1ing** : addin him now!

**handsoffmykakariko** : uh whos legitNess?

**legitNess** : Ness Onett.

**legitNess** : a freshman at ur school, if u wer observent enough to know that

**handsoffmykakariko** : ah sorry

**handsoffmykakariko** : Im Link Wilden. a senior.

**legitNess** : i know bruh

**handsoffmykakariko** : you do????

**inkl1ing added helianthus to chat at 4:51 pm.**

**inkl1ing:** okie hes in

**helianthus:** Hi!!!

**helianthus** : It’s Lucas!

**legitNess** : my good brother

**ratchorus** : greetings.

**helianthus** : i’m super excited for friday 

**helianthus** : ready to kick some ass :)

**inkl1ing** : u mean DPs event horizon ass

**ratchorus** : we are shutting the fuck up about that metaphor.

**helianthus** : …

**handsoffmykakariko** : you really dont want to know.

**inkl1ing** : okok b4 this gets outta hand.

**inkl1ing** : friday night, 7 pm, 322 Lawrence Drive. Thats where we r meetin.

**inkl1ing** : parking is on the road, or u can walk.

**inkl1ng** : up 2 u

**inkl1ing** : see ya folks 8)

\----

DP found himself pacing around his home that night, lost in thought.

Who was on his team so far? 

Himself, obviously.

Meggy, his crazy artist friend with minimal combat skills.

Link, a repressed teenager destined to do the opposite of what the team was going to do.

Ness, some shrimpy kid with dubious psychic abilities.

And potentially some of Ness’ friends.

Maybe he’d swing the Phantom Thieves onto his side-- then he’d have virtual criminals with guns waltzing around in his operation.

And, maybe, Zelda would join him, too, as an incredibly smart honors kid. But she also happened to dislike him, so… maybe not.

...Well, he wasn’t kidding himself when he said he was going to assemble the scrappiest team in existence.

Would they even stick around, once he explained where the hands were coming from? Or the eventual fate of the universe? Not everyone could be expected to believe things as easily as Link-- or, heck, even Meggy-- had. 

He wanted to call himself a fool for having false hope in the success of his pathetic new plan. But, dammit, he’d spent too long flailing around uselessly in the face of inevitability to stop now.

It was still too early to give up. He could work with this.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming up with chat names is fun.  
> I hope 'handsoffmykakariko' makes sense-- just pronounce all the syllables out loud, it'll make sense then ;)


	9. VIII. A Week in the Life of Link and Pit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [pit has a bit of an unexpected taste in music.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CvFH_6DNRCY)
> 
> \----

Monday, September 9th, 2019. Two hundred and ninety-six days out.

We start off with Link, during his lunch period, right after DP asked him to join his team. 

In all honesty, Link hadn’t been taking most of DP’s warnings with complete graveness, in spite of the fact that he’d been attacked by not one, but two giant floating hands in the past four days-- hands that he had  _ also  _ been dreaming about on a consistent basis. A doomsday scenario just sounded flat-out improbable, in his small bubble of a world, as much as his mind had been looping over the disturbing probability of it all.

But DP was obviously serious about the whole thing, if he was forming a team to… stop the apocalypse from happening. Whatever that means. Link supposed that he wanted to stop it, too. He was about to graduate from high school. He’s too young to die right now.

Wow, talk about something to cause existential dread. 

Link was interrupted from his introspection by the sound of someone running towards him. Curious, he glanced up from where he was seated against the brick wall of the school building.

It was Pit.

Did he need help with his math homework again or something?

Oh, wait, Link remembered. We’re sort of friends now. It’s perfectly normal to sit with your friends during lunch at school.

“Heya,” Pit wheezed, obviously a little winded from running. “You eating lunch?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“...Can I join you? If you don’t mind, of course”

Link shrugged, taking a bite of his sandwich. “Sure.” It definitely beat stewing alone in his thoughts about the end of the world.

“You know, I sorta forgot we had the same lunch period, otherwise I would have tried to find you sooner. I just spent, like, the last ten minutes or something running around campus looking for you,” Pit said, joining Link against the wall a few feet away from him. 

Yeah, that did sound like something Pit would do, Link thought, silently laughing to himself. A little bit creepy, but also endearing.

“Do you not have lunch?” Link asked, noticing Pit’s distinct lack of food.

“Oh, not today. I’ve been ordering stuff from the lunch line ‘cause my mom and I suck at making food, but whatever they had out today seemed… well, I’m not really sure what it was, but it smelled like crap, and looked like it, too,” Pit replied. “But that’s alright! I’ll probably get something on the way home. Like… a bagel. Or the takeout pizza they have at the grocery store.”

Link stared down at his lunch bag. Surely, he packed something that Pit could have, if he was hungry. “I’ve got this orange, if you want it, but I’m not sure it looks all that good,” he offered, grabbing the deflated fruit out of the bag.

“You keep it. I’m fine.”

“No, really, I’m not going to eat this.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yep.”

Hesitantly, Pit grabbed the orange out of Link’s hands.

Both held onto it for the briefest of seconds, before Pit quickly drew his hand away and started peeling it, letting the rinds fall to the ground.

Indirectly holding hands, Link thought.

Pit, as he tended to do, just started talking-- this time, about how his classes had been so far. Link was perfectly content to sit there and listen to him continue on, for however long he wanted to, as always. It was kind of a dynamic that worked out perfectly for the both of them, wasn’t it?

Imagine: every single lunch period he would have could be like this. A chance to zone out from all the crap happening in his life right now.

Wouldn’t it be nice, indeed.

\----

Tuesday, September 10th, 2019. Two hundred and ninety-five days out.

Once again, Link and Pit had lunch outside, against the wall of the school, in the same spot as the previous day. This time, Pit had a question:

“Okay, uh, this might be an inconvenience, so sorry if it is… but I sorta forgot to bring money for the bus ride back to my house. Could you, uh, give me a ride back? You don’t have to, obviously, if it’s out of your way--”

“Sure,” Link interjected. Pit stopped talking and stared at his feet.

“Thanks. I’ll make it up to you. Um, somehow. Like, if you ever need a favor, I officially owe one to you now.”

Link smiled to himself. “It’s no problem. Just meet me by the back entrance after school.”

Well, there might be one problem.

“Also, I don't know if you know, but I drive a motorcycle. Hopefully that’s okay?”

Pit blinked. “Well, I’ve never been on one before. But I’ve never exactly been afraid of fast-moving vehicles, so…”

“You’ll be fine,” Link reassured with a wink.

The rest of the school day after that passed uneventfully, as it tended to do. At least Link now had something to look forward to in the afternoon, outside of going home and vegetating for hours. At exactly 3:01, Link arrived at the back entrance of the school, scanning the area for Pit.

At 3:09, Pit came running down the halls, apologizing profusely. “Sorry I’m kind of late! Left half my stuff in my locker, which is, uh, on the other side of the school.”

Link couldn’t relate. He carried everything he needed for the day in his backpack at all times.

“Here,” Link said, dismissing Pit’s worries as he dropped an item into his hands. “You can use this helmet. Normally it’s for my friend Zelda, but she’s got her own car now, so she doesn’t really ride with me anymore.” 

“Oh, thanks,” Pit said, attempting to fit it on his head, voice sort of muffled.

Not an exact fit, but it would have to do. Last thing Link wanted was for Pit’s brains to end up in a bloody pile on the roads. His mom probably wouldn’t be happy about that.

“Let’s go. I’m parked in the back.” Not because he had woken up late or anything, and had missed the good spots in the front.

“So, uh, how does this work?” Pit asked, ogling at Link’s bike.

“Well, just put your feet here, and hold onto me. Can you send me your address?”

Looks like he didn’t live so far from the school, after all-- maybe only a ten minute drive. It almost seemed like the public transit bus route would be a bit of a detour for Pit. But, then again, it was probably his only way to get there, if his mom couldn’t take him.

Ah, whatever. After getting Pit situated on the back, he hopped on, starting the engine. “You ready?”

“Y-yeah!”

“Then hold on!”

And then Pit’s iron grasp was around his waist, holding on for dear life. Wow, he was unexpectedly strong, wasn’t he?

An indirect hug, Link thought.

Though maybe not as indirect as the orange.

Link’s face spontaneously broke out into a grin-- not that Pit could tell, as he could only see the back of Link’s head from his vantage point. “Okay, if you need me to slow down or go faster or whatever, just say so!”

“Got it!”

And they were off. As soon as they turned onto the main road and began speeding up, Pit screamed directly into Link’s ears.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

“A-are you okay?” Link shouted back, alarmed.

“Are you kidding me? This is AWESOME!”

“GOOD!”

The chaotic exhilaration of riding a motorcycle with someone else. Pit’s excitement was infectious, wrapping Link up in the thrill of every single turn and lane-change, in spite of their very normal suburban surroundings. Link’s stupid grin didn’t drop from his face for a second.

Eventually, they started closing in on their destination. “Am I supposed to turn up here?” Link called over his shoulder, not really familiar with the neighborhood they were driving through.

“Uh, it’s up a few streets from here, on the left.”

“Got it.”

When they arrived, Link had to do a double-take. Pit’s house was  _ huge _ \-- a sprawling home, absolutely putting his own humble apartment to shame. Not really sure what he was supposed to think, though, when the rest of the houses in the neighborhood were all basically that same size.

“This is it, right?” Link asked incredulously.

“Yeah! You can pull into the driveway, if you want.”

It felt almost illegal to park his motorcycle in the circular driveway. Which was odd, considering that Zelda’s giant house gave this one a run for its money, and he’d been there a million times before. Perhaps he was a little… put off by how affluent his new friend’s family seemed to be.

Pit slid off the bike, yanking his helmet off, and giving it to Link. “Here’s this.”

Link shoved it back into Pit’s arms. “Just bring it back tomorrow. I don’t really have room for it.”

“Oh. I guess you don’t,” Pit noted, a bit sheepishly. “Unless you wore both of them at once.” 

“Not entirely sure that’s possible.”

“Hmm… I guess you’re right.”

“...See you tomorrow?”

“Of course!” Pit exclaimed, face brightening. “And, uh, thanks for the ride. That was  _ way _ more fun than the dumb bus.”

Link smiled. “Anytime.”

The whole way home, Link rode with a light feeling in his chest, still caught up in what had just happened. Why did it feel so special?

Oh, whatever. Light feelings tended to be sparse in Link’s life, so he welcomed the change, no matter how inexplicable those feelings were.

\----

Wednesday, September 11th, 2019. Two hundred and ninety-four days out.

“Whatcha listening to?”

Today, Pit found Link leaning against their usual wall of the school building, earbuds in, eyes closed.

“...Can you hear me?” Pit asked, poking Link’s shoulder.

His eyes shot open. Oh, whoops, he thought, staring into Pit’s confused eyes.

“Ha, sorry. Didn’t notice you there,” Link apologized, pausing his music. “Kinda zoned out for a minute.”

“You listening to more loafy?”

“No, it’s Rockarina.”

“What’s that?”

“Oh,” Link started excitedly, pulling his phone out of his pocket and showing Pit the album cover. “Rockarina’s my favorite band. They’re like a homage to classic rock music, but their gimmick is that they have two lead ocarinas in all of their songs. It’s great. They put out a new album last night, so now I’m listening to it for the first time.”

Pit squinted at the image on Link’s phone. “...Is that them?”

“Yup. That guy there’s one of the ocarina players,” Link explained, pointing to a man with crazy blond hair and a green beanie. “His name’s also Link.”

“That’s kinda funny! He even looks kind of like you,” Pit noted.

“A little bit,” Link laughed. “And then there’s Saria, with the green hair. She plays ocarina too, but also does vocals. Darunia’s the big guy who plays electric guitar. Ruto’s in the back-- she’s on drums. And then Nabooru over there plays bass guitar, and Impa sometimes does synth, sometimes piano, whatever works at the time.”

“And who’s that with the harp?”

“Oh, that’s Sheik. They’re… really cool,” Link smiled. “Most of the time they do vocals with Saria, but sometimes, they bust out their harp for some of the songs. It’s really impressive.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. They’re, uh, actually the reason I started growing my hair out,” Link said, instinctively twisting his ponytail around in his fingers. “Though theirs is way cooler than mine. Mine’s just kind of… messy. And hanging there.”

“Aw, I like your hair!” Pit protested. “It’s… really pretty.”

Link went a little bit red. “You think?”

“Of course.”

They both stared at each other for a moment, before Link broke the silence. “Here. Listen to this song. It’s a little unconventional, but it’s really good,” he said quickly, offering Pit one of his earbuds.

“...Okay?” Pit said nonchalantly.

It was ‘The Song of Time’, an epic eight-minute rock ballad that started out with a quiet duet between the ocarina and the harp before slowly adding each instrument in, eventually launching into its epic climax, and then fading out into an ocarina solo. Certainly an atypical song, but that’s why Link loved it so much.

He kept looking over to Pit during its runtime, trying to figure out if he actually liked what he was hearing or not; oddly enough, the usually talkative Pit was silent throughout the whole thing.

Link took his earbud out when it ended. “Did you like it?”

“It’s like…” Pit started, crossing his eyes in concentration, “It’s like a rock band waltzed into a medieval shire or something.”

“That’s one way of putting it.”

“S-sorry, I don’t know all that much about rock music. I usually listen to classical stuff.”

“Huh,” Link mused. Classical music? Pit really did not seem like the type to care about that kind of stuff. Although, maybe that did make sense-- Pit was, after all, kind of an unexpected person. “You mean like… Mozart? And those guys?”

“Oh, Mozart’s totally overrated. I’m more into, like… Debussy. And Mussorgsky.”

“I have no idea who those guys are.”

Pit chuckled. “Most don’t.”

“...Well, did you like Rockarina?”

“They’re certainly interesting,” Pit remarked. “What’s the album called? Maybe I’ll go listen to it if I have time.”

Link pulled up his phone again. “The one that song was on is called ‘Seven Sages.’ The new one’s ‘Majora’s Mask,’ but I haven’t finished it, so maybe start with the first. It’s pretty iconic.”

“Well,” Pit responded, “If I’m gonna listen to that, then  _ you _ should listen to ‘Claire de Lune.’ It’s by that Claude Debussy guy I mentioned earlier. Kind of overrated, yeah, but there’s  _ kind of _ actually a reason for that.” He smirked. “People these days don’t understand a good song when they hear one.”

“...Pit, you’re, uh, what? Sixteen? Seventeen? Eighteen?” Link snorted.

“S-seventeen, yeah,” Pit stuttered. “I’m just joking around, obviously.”

Charmingly funny, as he tended to be. 

Link went home that night and decided to give whatever Pit had recommended him a listen. Not because he liked classical music all that much, but he figured, if Pit was willing to listen to his music, he should do the same. 

‘Claire de Lune’ was just a simple piano piece. But it was… peaceful, nostalgic, and melancholic, all at the same time. The comments on the Youtube video seemed to suggest most people felt the same way.

It was the music that would play after the world ended, during the credits sequence of the universe, one person said.

Maybe those Galeem and Dharkon guys would listen to the song while everything got destroyed.

He fell asleep that night with the sound of the piano in his head.

\----

Thursday, September 12th, 2019. Two hundred and ninety-three days out.

Link was incredibly relieved to discover the normal sweltering heat of the summer seemed to be fading out for good. It was a perfect, sunny sixty-five degrees outside, and he couldn’t help but to be filled with those same sunny feelings as he breathed in the morning air. 

Finally, good walking weather. Link fully intended to spend the whole afternoon outside on the park trail.

He was a little bit infamous for his five-hour walks; but on a day as perfect as this one, why would he want to spend it being depressed indoors?

“You seem like you’re in a good mood,” Pit noted at lunch. 

Link just nodded, humming a bit to himself. The trees at Ninten Academy look really pretty in the fall, he thought, passively observing a falling red leaf. Even though it’s technically not even fall yet.

“I’m going on a walk later. You wanna come with?” he suddenly spoke, without thinking. 

Pit’s bored expression broke out into a small grin. “Sure! Where are we going?”

_ What am I doing? _

“There’s a park that’s about five minutes from here on foot… there’s a nice trail in the back that I walk on a lot, when the weather’s nice.”

“Sounds like fun!”

And that’s how the two of them ended up at the park later that day. 

It was the third time in the last week that the two of them had done something together outside of school. They got along so well, despite the fact that they hadn’t known each other for more than a month. It felt sort of wrong, Link thought— normally, he had to fight his own reservations to be able to connect with anyone, but with Pit, it just felt like second nature. 

The two of them were out for hours, walking back and forth across the long, unpaved trail through the forest. Pit’s stream of consciousness went on for hours, too; what started out as conversation eventually fell into Pit just speaking whatever was on his mind. 

Link, as always, was content to listen, lulled into a quiet, peaceful state by his words, blending in with the sound of a slight breeze rustling through the surrounding trees.

How could anyone think that was annoying? If that’s how most people thought of him, well… Link had trouble imagining how Pit managed to stay so cheerful in everything. It hurt, a bit, to imagine what his life might be like. 

Link looked up at Pit. His wild brown hair was washed out gold by the light of the setting sun behind him. Almost like a halo. 

Pit, in turn, shifted to look right back at Link, otherworldly blue eyes shining. 

He was beautiful. 

...Not that Link could ever admit that out loud. 

Pit was a friend. And that was all. 

\----

Friday, September 13th, 2019. Two hundred and ninety-two days out. 

Tonight was supposed to be the first official meeting of the ‘Ninten Fight Club…’ or whatever DP’s weird artist friend had decided to call it. Link had absolutely no idea what to expect: how many people would be there? Would they do any fighting? Would DP actually explain what these so-called gods were trying to do?

What would be expected of Link, if he was so special in the cosmic scheme of things?

Needless to say, he was a little bit nervous.

Pit seemed to notice that Link was kind of out of it during lunch. “You okay?” he asked, staring at Link with concern.

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine,” Link lied. Pit definitely wouldn’t understand the whole ‘stopping the apocalypse’ situation, even if Link tried to explain it to him. DP would probably throttle Link for giving anything away about Ninten Fight Club, anyways.

“Whatever you say,” Pit shrugged.

Perhaps a few minutes later, a familiar dark-haired person rounded the corner.

“Link. I legit looked everywhere for you. Answer your goddamn phone when I text it next time, okay? I’ve got--”

DP abruptly stopped talking, a look of slight alarm crossing his face as he noticed Pit sitting beside Link.

Pit met his gaze, completely expressionless.

“--I’ve, uh, got a question,” DP continued, blinking himself back into reality.

Link took a sheepish bite of his spaghetti. “Shoot.”

“Does Zelda have lunch right now?”

“No.”

“Shit,” DP muttered, scuffing the pavement with his shoe. “Do you have her number? I really need to talk to her about… movie night tonight.”

Movie night? 

Oh, right, the meeting. Link whipped his phone out of his pocket (noticing the multiple frantic missed texts from DP), and sent him Zelda’s number. “Just sent it. And if you’re trying to convince her to do stuff, don’t be so... aggressive. She doesn’t really like you all that much as it is.”

“I know that,” DP said, rolling his eyes. “In any case, that’s all I need. I’m gonna go now.”

Before he could scuttle back off into the building, Pit spoke up. “Is he a friend of yours, Link?”

Leave it to DP to not introduce himself to anyone, ever, Link thought, smirking to himself. “Yeah, more or less,” he responded, shrugging.

DP glanced off nervously to the side, before tentatively extending a hand to Pit. “DP Leandros. That’s me,” he said, voice gruff, as usual.

“What’s the DP stand for?” Pit asked, shaking DP’s hand forcefully.

“Nothing.”

“Well, I’m Pit Halloway. Nice to meet you!”

The two of them continued shaking hands for an awkward moment, before DP yanked out of Pit’s grasp. Link watched them, amused.

Between DP’s usual sharp demeanor, and Pit’s cheerful personality, Link didn’t think the two of them would really get along at all. If he thought about it, they were almost kind of opposites of each other, weren’t they?

A funny coincidence.

Pit looked like he wanted to say something else to DP, but he bolted out of the conversation before anyone could say anything more.

“Sorry about him,” Link apologized. “He’s like that with everyone.” Hopefully Pit wouldn’t take DP’s sour attitude as a reflection of his own annoyingness or something.

Pit chuckled. “Hey, that’s alright. He seems like the kind of guy that’s actually pretty nice once you get to know him, you know?”

“He’s got his heart in the right place, I’ll say that.”

“...Can I have one of your chips?” Pit asked, completely out of the blue.

Link glanced down at the snack-sized bag of Doritos in his lap, then back up at Pit’s desperate eyes.

He couldn’t say no to that face. “Have as many as you want.”

“Yes!”

The rest of lunch that day went uninterrupted. It was another perfect day. Link laid down on the sun-warmed pavement, exhaling a sigh of satisfaction. Pit joined him as well, laying on his stomach with his head in his arms.

Link smiled. He could get used to this.

\------------------------

Going back to a few days earlier… September 11th, 2019. Two hundred and ninety-four days out.

“So… this is where the leader of the Phantom Thieves lives? In a cutesy townhouse?”

“Yup! This is exactly where he said to go.”

In his quest to recruit more people onto his team, DP had asked Meggy if she knew anything about the identities of the Phantom Thieves. By some expected miracle, she happened to know exactly who seemed to be in charge of the whole operation: Akira Kurusu, a fellow senior at their very own school. Meggy had met him once at a party, and through a series of unfortunate events, ended up getting saved from having her butt shot off in an alleyway by Akira himself, wearing the same trench coat and mask he usually wore as his vigilante persona.

Meggy swore DP to secrecy. “You’d better not tell anyone you know who Joker is, got it?”

“Dude. I’m the king of keeping secrets,” DP scoffed. After all, his entire identity was basically unknown to everyone who knew him.

In any case, Meggy had corresponded with this Akira guy to meet at his house so that DP could try to convince him and his Phantom Thieves onto the team.

Thank the gods she had so many connections.

DP and Meggy were greeted at the door by a very tall, imposing woman with short black hair and a pair of sharp-looking glasses. “Hello,” she greeted, her voice low and calm.

DP shrunk back a little bit. Was this Akira’s mom or something?

Meggy, however, was completely unfazed, hands placed confidently at her hips. “Hello! We’re here to see Akira?”

“Oh, how fun.” The lady immediately turned around to yell up the stairwell. “AKIRA! You’ve got company at the door!”

A “Coming, Bayo!” was heard from upstairs, followed by who DP assumed to be Akira himself coming down the stairs, two steps at a time. With a smile, the lady at the door then disappeared off into another room, presumably to give everyone else some space. 

Akira nodded at the duo. “Meggy. Long time no see. And… DP, I assume?”

“Yeah. Uh, nice to meet you,” DP said, a little put off by Akira’s cool demeanor. 

Akira jerked a thumb up the staircase. “My room’s upstairs. We can talk there.” With a wave of his hand, the other two followed behind him, past a landing on the second level, to the third floor. 

“Pretty sick space you got here, dude,” Meggy commented. 

It was indeed pretty sick— the entire third level was an open area, with Akira’s more bedroomy stuff on one side of the stairwell, and a big, red couch and a television on the other side, forming a common area. All the windows were covered with blackout curtains, leaving the area to be illuminated by the lamps on the ceiling. 

“Thanks,” Akira grinned, sitting down in the center of the plush couch. Meggy quickly joined him on the side, and DP tentatively sat down on the very edge. 

“So…” DP attempted to start, but was cut off by Akira. 

“Pardon my asking, but what does DP stand for? I’m kind of curious.”

“None of your business--“

“Dipshit Pooplord!” Meggy exclaimed. 

DP groaned, narrowing his eyes at her. 

Akira chuckled. “So, Dipshit Pooplord, what brings you to my humble abode?”

“Well,” DP started hesitantly, “I heard you and your crew took out that giant floating hand the other night.”

“Indeed we did,” Akira confirmed. 

“I’m, uh, the guy that took out the other one… on Friday night…”

Akira raised an eyebrow. 

“Here, I’ll prove it. I got the gun here, and the wings here, the whole deal.”

DP stood there for a brief moment, summoning the same stuff as before, allowing Akira to survey his proof. After staring at him quizzically for a few seconds, Akira spoke up: “So. I assume you’re here to team up with me?”

“How’d you guess?” Meggy exclaimed, jumping out of her seat.

“You don’t exactly see a winged person with a magic rifle waltzing around every day. Especially not one that fights giant hands. I figured  _ you  _ must know where they came from.”

DP glanced off to the side. “I, uh, partially know what’s going on. Not completely.”

“And that would be?”

“Okay, look. I know I’m being vague, but could you wait until Friday? Me and Meggy are hosting a meeting at my place with a bunch of other people who’ve joined the team, and I  _ really  _ don’t want to have to explain this more than once.” DP grumbled. “It’s… complicated.”

“In a nutshell,” Meggy interjected, “The whole world’s going to end in June. Or July, depending on how you wanna count the days.”

“Oh,” Akira blinked.

“Yeah. So, are you in?”

Akira turned to Meggy, her face desperately excited; then to DP, staring back at him with a subtly pleading expression. “I… guess I’ll come to your meeting. Just to scope things out. Just me, though. I’d like to make sure this is legit before I sic the rest of the Thieves on this.”

DP forcefully exhaled. “That’s literally all I could ask for right now. Thank you.”

Another success for the books, he remarked to himself. He didn’t really expect Akira to be so immediately cooperative, but whatever. As long as the Phantom Thieves joined his team, he didn’t really care how it happened.

  
  



	10. IX. Living in a Personal Flat-Earth Theory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i shouldn't show a trace of doubt.
> 
> \----

September 14th, 2019. Two hundred and ninety-one days out.

Pit. Simply, a servant to the Goddess of Light.

Two thousand, two hundred and forty-two years old. Perhaps ancient by human standards, but for an angel, still quite young. Hardly even mature. Maybe even a teenager, to use a more familiar term.

He, too, has been keeping an exact count of how many days are left. How much longer he has until the entire world he’s known is turned to nothing.

He tries not to think about it. He’s been trying to avoid thinking about it for many years, at this point. But it's getting harder than ever.

In the recent, Pit has been assigned on a mission by his goddess, Palutena.

As the protector of the humans, it is her job to ensure that the sword that seals the darkness makes it successfully to its human wielder, and properly used to the end it was created for. Galeem and Dharkon directly suggested to her that she whisk Link away to her domain and keep him there until it was time, but Palutena felt the need to be a little... craftier than that. After all, Link would be very unlikely to do what they wanted if he was being forced into it. 

So Palutena decided to send out her favorite messenger to keep watch on Link.

Deep down, this was the  _ last  _ thing Pit wanted to do. If everything in the world was going to be obliterated, he didn’t want to accidentally become  _ attached  _ to anything. He had, after all, spent the last few decades staying as far away from the humans and Earth as possible.

But as an angel, it was his duty to carry out whatever Lady Palutena commanded of him; in the end, he cared far more for his goddess that had provided for him all his life over some random mortal and the fleeting world he lived in. Pit would overcome any grief eventually.

That’s what Lady Palutena always said, at least. But she’d seen eons rise and fall countless times. All Pit knew was the one he was living in. 

Of course, Pit never mentioned this to her. His worries were childish, a sign of his own immaturity. All the other gods thought he was foolish and naive to begin with-- he didn’t need to make that perception any stronger.

To complete his mission, Pit was going to have to pretend to be a normal human being, just like the one he was supposed to be watching over. Fortunately, he and his goddess already had a cover story, by sheer coincidence of timing.

Several years before, Palutena had decided to make herself famous as a Hollywood actress-- whether as a means of further watching over the humans in a new age, or just for fun, Pit wasn’t really sure. After making it big and starring in a few box-office hits, she’d run away with her newfound wealth to a giant mansion in some ritzy neighborhood outside of LA. So when news of the apocalypse’s date broke out amongst the gods, both she and Pit were easily able to relocate closer to the wielder without raising any eyebrows..

And that’s how Pit ended up pretending to be a high-school student at some academy for smart kids. Which, to be clear, he was definitely not. Good thing Lady Palutena was there to help him cheat his way through all his classes with her telepathic communication.

Pit promised to himself that he would not, under any circumstances, get close to anyone or anything while on his mission. Hopefully, that wouldn’t be too hard, if he just passively recited everything Lady Palutena told him to say to people, and nothing more.

His promise crashed and burned as soon as he met Link in person.

On the outside, Pit was able to remain calm, navigating through their first conversation on the bus with ease, per Palutena’s instructions in his head. His words weren’t really even his own, so there was not much to worry about.

Inside, he felt like he was going to vomit his heart out through his throat.

Here was Link, this absolutely beautiful person, with long, golden hair that shined in the morning light through the bus window. Completely oblivious to the total destruction that awaited him and everything else. And here was Pit, fully complicit in allowing someone that innocent to die.

Well, he was going to die at some point, Pit tried to reason to himself. At least this way, it’ll be fast.

Do  _ not _ let yourself be drawn to him.

Once, he was instructed to ask Link for help on his math homework. 

Link said that he actually  _ enjoyed _ the way that Pit tended to carry on when talking. Most people thought that trait of his was annoying, at best. Why couldn’t Link just agree with them, like everyone else?

Somehow, he later found himself at Link’s home for dinner. His father, Pit learned, was the overbearing type. Something he was incredibly familiar with. Why did they have to relate?

They started hanging together at school, pretty much every day. 

The way Link often smiled at him, perfectly happy to have Pit there with him, felt like consecutive stab wounds in Pit’s own soul.

Why did the one person who seemed to like him unconditionally happen to be someone who was going to die in a matter of months?

Pit often told himself that the sword Link was supposed to find would show up soon. When that happened, he could do away with all the fake-identity and friendship nonsense, and just be Link’s source of otherworldly, distant guidance. Whatever sense of trust Link had in him would crumble once he discovered what Pit truly was, anyways. Their newfangled friendship was not one made to last.

Keep repeating something to yourself and you’ll believe it eventually.

Of course, there was also the possibility that Link already knew everything.

Pit had not seen Dark Pit for… maybe a whole millennium by now, after a dramatic falling-out of sorts between the two of them. To see him now, friends with Link, probably meant just one thing: Dark Pit was planning  _ something _ . He’d destroyed one of the Crazy Hands, so clearly, he was trying to thwart the cosmic plan in some way. 

He’d seen his counterpart wandering the shadowed alleyways one night, now almost completely unrecognizable, save for the glinting red eyes that stood out among the darkness.

His presence had caused Pit’s insides to backflip uncontrollably. After all this time, he’d thought he’d managed to push any thought of Dark Pit out of his mind. It was clear the other angel didn’t care a single iota for him, so there was no reason to  _ miss  _ him. Why else would he leave, never to be seen again?

But now, Pit often fell asleep with fantasies of running free through the green grasses of this planet, starting over in a life all his own; no longer wrapped up in duty and mission and the expectations of a world to come, simply taking each moment as it comes. It’s what Dark Pit seemed to have done.

What was life like for him, Pit wondered?

Nothing he should be living out himself.

Part of him knew that Dark Pit’s infectiously rebellious demeanor would drag Pit down into the depths of his plans. Pit had a duty, though. He couldn’t let Lady Palutena down. 

Another part of him wanted Dark Pit to succeed. Pit tried to push this thought back as far as possible. 

Not that Pit could even try to do anything to help.

His business was absolutely nothing Pit should be involved in.

Keep repeating something to yourself and you’ll believe it eventually.

\----

Often, he stayed up until the earliest hours of the morning, unable to fall asleep-- something of a ritual he had unfortunately gotten into the habit of doing. Tonight happens to be one of those nights.

Palutena had told him she’d be away for the duration of the night, so he was completely alone in their vast suburban home. 

On nights like these, the dreary walls became suffocating, and the dark rooms and hallways full of nothing but the creeping feelings of uncomfortable dread. So Pit headed to Palutena’s usual heavenly domain, floating in the sky. 

Skworld is a disjointed realm, comprised of floating chunks of earth with dilapidated stone buildings scattered all over them, invisible to the mortal eye. It certainly has seen better days-- but it’s always been Pit’s real home. There’s nothing quite like staring out into the infinite expanse of sky in the middle of the night, if you want to make yourself feel better.

This place, too, will be destroyed. All Pit can do is hope the next domain he lives in will someday feel like home, too.

Something vibrated, yanking him out of his introspection.

...Oh, right. His phone. Somehow, still functional from all the way up in the sky. He was never going to get used to actually having one of those.

It was Link.

He could have ignored it. But he didn’t want to.

“Heya.”

“Hey, Pit… sorry to bother you this late…”

“You’re fine,” Pit blurted out. “I’m usually awake right now.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

There was a pause. Pit heard shuffling on the other end.

“This is kind of a weird request, but can you, um, just… talk at me? It can be about whatever you want, I don’t really care. You could even read a book out loud or something if you don’t know what to say. Literally anything works,” Link said, obvious unsettledness in his voice.

“...Are you okay?”

“Not really.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” The first thing Pit could think to say, in response to that.

“No. Legitimately anything else. I just need to get my mind off… stuff.”

A feeling of deep unsease settled in Pit’s stomach. Hopefully, Link was fine, maybe he’d had a nightmare or something. He wanted to ask so badly, but obviously, Link didn’t need that kind of probing right now. He needed blathering. Pit was, fortunately, quite skilled at that-- so he’d been told incessantly.

He stared up at the starry night above the clouds. Surely, there was a talking point there somewhere.

“...What’s your star sign?” he asked, eventually.

“I have no clue.”

“Well, when were you born?”

“December 2nd.”

“So that makes you, a, uh… Sagittarius! He’s a little half-horse-half-human guy who shoots people with arrows. Basically means you’re supposed to like wandering around the world and solving the ‘mystery of life’ or something. And that you’re a massive extrovert…” He faltered, the stupidity of his words dawning on him. “But, ah, astrology’s really all just a bunch of crazy talk, so I don’t know why I’m bringing this up?”

“I don’t mind,” Link mumbled.

“Oh, good,” Pit exhaled. “As I was saying, some people say it’s less bogus if you talk about… like… rising moons and Mars and Jupiter and stuff, but still. Kinda dumb to think the positions of giant floating balls of rock and gas up in space could inform your personality, huh? Like, for me, I’m a Capricorn, which means I’m supposed to be super responsible and good at planning and being serious all the time. See? That’s crazy talk right there. I’m not like that at  _ all _ .”

“I guess,” he continued, “I just think it’s all really funny, how people come up with the strangest things to explain why stuff is the way it is. Like… oh, have you ever heard of the flat earth theory? They think the world’s a disc, and there’s a giant wall of ice around the edge of the planet that’s supposed to be Antarcitica, and they’ve got people secretly guarding the ends of it to make sure no one jumps off. I mean, who even thinks up this stuff?”

“Who knows.”

“Imagine, what it would be like to stand on the giant Antarctica wall. You’d see all of space.” A little bit like the view from up here, Pit noted. “You’d be all alone, on the giant Antarctica wall. Or, maybe there would be penguins up there too. Though, aren’t there no penguins in the south pole? Just the north pole? I feel like I heard that somewhere before…”

“Hey…” Link eventually interjected.

“Hm?”

Link audibly exhaled. “Thanks for, um, putting up with all my bullshit. You’re really chill all the time, and I guess… I really appreciate that,” he stammered, in his usual, non-eloquent way of saying things.

Pit felt nauseous. 

They’d fallen headfirst into friendship with each other, and there was no backing out now.

He had no idea  _ what _ the bullshit Link was experiencing was, but his heart ached in just thinking about the prospect of him being miserable.

Link, in turn, truly wanted to be his friend, in spite of Pit’s many idiosyncrasies.

A real connection, in the world of flighty, disillusioned gods Pit was used to living in.

And Pit was going to throw that all away.

He knew the feeling well; maybe it was love, maybe it was just an intense desire to be close to somebody, for once, in the midst of loneliness. But the intense feeling of guilt at watching somebody die while he lived on as if nothing had happened was real. All too familiar. It was, after all, the reason why he’d cut himself off from all life with the mortal.

Everything has an end, he told himself. He could love Link in the two hundred and ninety-one days he had left, and then move on.

This was how things had to go, right? Why try to fight it?

“...Do you ever feel like you’re living in the flat earth theory?” Pit suddenly blurted out.

“What do you mean?”

“Like… you’re trying to come up with stupid reasons to prove that some dumb part of your life has to be true.”

“Often,” Link said softly. “Very often.”

“But you can’t really break people out of flat earth theory, right? You have to convince yourself really hard to believe something as ridiculous as that, so you could never be unconvinced. Like you’re too far gone.”

“I guess. Though I like to imagine you could change anyone’s mind.”

“Change my mind, then!”

He paled, all alone, floating on a hunk of rock in the middle of the sky. Link didn’t need to know of all the existential thoughts sprinting through his head at breakneck speed.

“...About flat earth theory?” Link asked quizzically.

“Ah... uh, nevermind, I’m just kind of, um carrying on over here…” Pit explained, voice a bit frenzied. “Flat earth theory is just weird. And I guess that’s what I have to say about the whole matter.”

His mind was already being changed by Link, it was plain as day. And it crushed him.

\------------------------

**Fri, Sept 13, 12:59 pm**

**ratchorus** : hey zelda.

**ratchorus** : it’s DP.

**ratchorus** : don’t freak out, link gave me your number.

**ratchorus** : i need to talk to you about apocalypse stuff.

**ratchorus** : like from the other night.

**ratchorus** : so call/text me if you want. i’d appreciate it.

**Fri, Sept 13, 4:47 pm**

**zelders** : And I only say this because I am deathly curious about this whole hand situation: please, tell me what you need.

**ratchorus** : oh thank god you didn’t ignore me.

**ratchorus** : i’m not sure if link has said anything to you about this. but i’m forming a team to stop the end of the world.

**ratchorus** : and i figured since you’re already in on all this stuff you’d maybe be willing to join

**zelders** : A team.

**zelders** : And what, exactly, do you plan on doing?

**ratchorus** : i don’t know. 

**ratchorus** : i’m planning on figuring that out later when everyone is assembled.

**zelders** : Who’s on the team so far?

**ratchorus** : me, my friend meggy, link, a couple psychic freshmen, and the leader of the phantom thieves.

**zelders** : That’s it?

**ratchorus** : yes that is it.

**zelders** : So. You have no plan of action, and your team is a skeleton crew. No, I will not be joining you. So sorry.

**ratchorus** : aw zelda come on

**ratchorus** : you saw the hand the other night. i explained to you what’s going on. this is for real. you’re dooming yourself here.

**zelders** : You don’t have any proof that any of what you’ve said is real, though. Yes, the whole hand incident was weird. But I’m not exactly inclined to believe the first explanation somebody gives about it. Link may be a bit gullible, but I am not as willing to waste my time on nonsense.

**zelders** : Besides, why do you need me? I don’t have any remarkable fighting skills, if that’s what you’re looking for.

**ratchorus** : because

**ratchorus** : you’re smarter than the rest of us. you know how to go about planning stuff out. and as much as i hate to admit it, i’m gonna need someone like you on the team if we want to succeed.

**ratchorus** : like. i’m sorry that i don’t have any further ways of proving myself. I’m sorry that i don’t know how this whole apocalypse thing is going to play out. but if anyone could figure that out it’s gonna be you. 

**ratchorus** : you said it yourself just now. you’re curious. can’t you at least come for that?

**ratchorus** : imagine i’m grovelling at your feet right now. i’d do that irl. that’s how desperate i am right now.

**zelders** : Still not convinced.

**ratchorus** : please!

**zelders** : You’re pretty desperate, aren’t you?

**ratchorus** : yes i am! shit dude!

**ratchorus** : i know you don’t like me but seriously!

**ratchorus** : we’re meeting tonight at 7. you can come then see if you like it and then never come again if you don’t.

**ratchorus** : you can at least do that, right?

**zelders** : You’re not going to let me go peacefully, are you?

**ratchorus** : no.

**zelders** : I suppose getting out of movie night with my father would be nice.

**zelders** : Ugh. What the hell. I’ll come, if you’re that desperate.

**ratchorus** : holy shit thank you.

**ratchorus** : from the bottom of my heart.

**zelders** : Don’t expect much from me, though.

**ratchorus** : i’m putting you on our group chat. my address is there.

**ratchorus** : i’ll see you later.

**zelders** : Of course.

It felt weird, forming a team, relying on others. He cringed at the amount of exclamation points he’d been forced to resort to using to get his way. But it was necessary, if he wanted to succeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> keep the allegory of the flat-earth theory in the back of your mind.
> 
> (also, i do fear this fic is getting a little OOC... i hope everything is fine in context, though.)


	11. X. Ninten Fight Club

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> madness ensues.
> 
> \---

**Fri, Sept 13, 6:30 pm**

**inkl1ing** : t minus 30 mins guys. where de heck r yall

**weliveinasociety** : still at home, I have half an hour.

**inkl1ing** : srsly i am bored. plz come now if u want theres legit nothin to do at DPs except stare at his cat

**weliveinasociety** : wait you have a cat?

**ratchorus** : yes. is this surprising.

**weliveinasociety** : dude i gotta bring mine.

 **weliveinasociety** : it’s going to be epic

 **weliveinasociety** : morgana gets really depressed when he doesn’t see any other cats for a while

**ratchorus** : you’re going to bring your cat to my house.

**weliveinasociety** : got a problem with that?

**ratchorus** : i guess not.

**weliveinasociety** : swanky

**inkl1ing** : his cats kinda an asshole tho so get ready

**handsoffmykakariko** : hey uhh i’m here. Right outside.

 **handsoffmykakariko** : someone let me in

**weliveinasociety** : morgana’s also an ass so your cat will be in good company

**ratchorus** : spectacular.

**legitNess** : lucas n i r walking over now

 **legitNess** : will ther be food?

**ratchorus** : uh

 **ratchorus** : i think i have a bag of chips somewhere in here.

**handsoffmykakariko** : oh :(

**legitNess** : yeah man half the reson im here is 4 food

**ratchorus** : ok ok would your sorry asses like me to get some takeout? 

**legitNess** : yeah do burger king

**ratchorus** : burger king? fucking burger king? 

**ratchorus** : you could get anything and you want burger king?

**legitNess** : ye its good stuff

**inkl1ing** : nothin like abig ass whopper for dinner amirite

**zelders** : Admittedly, Burger King is pretty tasty.

**ratchorus** : thank you for nothing, zelda.

**zelders** : I mean, you asked what we want. Burger King sounds pretty good.

**ratchorus** : meggy can you call the postmates guys 

**inkl1ing** : dude im literally standing right next 2 u. ask me irl

 **inkl1ng** : also no what the hecc ur the guy hosting the meeting

**ratchorus** : i’m broke as fuck.

 **ratchorus** : just use your mom’s credit card number.

**inkl1ing** : fine, fine fine

 **inkl1ing** : the charity handouts i do 4 you people >8[

**legitNess** : hell yeah burger king

**handsoffmykakariko** : hell yeah burger king

**weliveinasociety** : hell yeah burger king

**helianthus** : hell yeah burger king!

**ratchorus** : that’s it. i’m leaving.

 **ratchorus** : you want to tell me something? say it to my face.

 **ratchorus** : bye.

**inkl1ing** : cya folks!!!

\----

Friday the Thirteenth. DP wasn’t superstitious, but he could almost physically sense an omen of bad things to come. He had already had a bit of a hectic day so far, between navigating school, running into Pit at said school, convincing Zelda to join the team at the last minute, and generally stressing about what was going to go down later tonight.

He’d even attempted to write a little speech down, so he wouldn’t be completely lost when trying to explain the whole apocalypse-thing to the group.

“Meggy, what do I do if everyone walks out on me?” DP asked, pacing around his home.

“Well, it would be like that scene in Ratatouille, where the guy reveals that the rat’s been doing the cooking and everyone leaves in disappointment and they shut the place down due to health code violations,” Meggy said matter-of-factly, trying to get Two to let her pet her head.

“...Why the hell is that the first thing your mind goes to?”

“Have you ever seen Ratatouille?”

“No.”

“If this fight club thing goes to crap, we’ll watch that. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some Burger King to order.”

What a comfort Meggy was. Seemed like all DP could do was fret about the meeting while waiting for everyone to arrive.

Here’s the order in which everyone showed up:

Link, obviously, came first, almost half an hour earlier than expected, hoping to avoid an awkward Friday night dinner with his father.

Following him was Zelda, who stepped through the door at exactly 7:00 pm-- punctual as always.

Ness and Lucas stumbled in a few minutes after her; right off the bat, Ness commented that DP ‘lived somewhere where he felt like he was going to get robbed or something.’ Lucas commented that DP’s converted warehouse was ‘pretty cool.”

Ten minutes later, the Postmates delivery person arrived with Burger King.

Ten minutes after _that_ , Akira finally showed up. In his hand was a pet carrier, containing one very disgruntled cat.

“Took you long enough,” DP scoffed.

“You almost missed the Burger King!” Meggy exclaimed, half-eaten cheeseburger in hand.

Akira set down his pet carrier. “So sorry. My cat here decided to be a _bit_ disagreeable. But he can come out now, so it’s okay.”

With that, Akira opened the door, and out ran a black and white cat with a dingy yellow bandana around its neck. Though DP’s own cat was sitting on Link’s lap on the other side of the room, she immediately bolted up, and ran over to the intruding feline.

“What the fuck! They’re going to kill each other!” DP yelped, watching the two cats hiss at each other.

“Eh,” Akira shrugged. “They’ll get along. Just let them do their thing.”

“I swear, if your asshole cat puts even one tiny scratch on Two, I will skin him to the bone.”

“He won’t. Morgana’s a coward.”

“Good.”

Akira then left the cats to do their thing, and joined the circle of people on the floor, eating their Burger King. 

“Damn. This is some pretty baller Burger King,” Akira randomly said, taking a massive bite out of a burger.

Ness nodded sagely. “I know, right?”

“Never had a better Burger King than this before.”

“That might be pushing it. Once, I was on a road trip with my parents, and we went by the Burger King drive-thru at midnight. Best meal I ever had.”

DP suddenly felt that his meeting was devolving into a glorified hang-out session. They had an agenda to cover, and here they were, wasting time talking about total shit.

He really needed to get _his_ shit together.

He leaned over to Meggy. “Should I, uh, give the talk now?” he whispered.

“If you wanna,” Meggy nodded.

Well, here goes nothing.

DP stood up and clapped his hands together, immediately getting the attention of everyone else in the room.

They were all staring at him with intense eyes. He felt a sudden rush of nervous adrenaline begin to build up inside of him.

“I assume you’re all wondering why you’re here tonight. Aside from, uh, beating up giant hands,” DP started, swallowing his fear. “Some of you already know, some of you have heard bits of it, and some of you, I promised I’d tell you later. We’re all here in once place now, so listen up, because I’m really only going to explain this once.”

He paused, making sure everyone was still listening. And of course they were, still staring back up at him.

“Just, as a warning, what I’m about to say is going to sound like absolute horseshit, but you’re going to have to believe me. And you’ve all seen the hands. You really should believe anything at this point--”

“Get on with it,” Ness interjected.

“Fine, then,” DP groaned. “As of today, we’ve got only two hundred and ninety-two days until the literal apocalypse happens.”

Again, he paused, quickly studying everyone’s expressions. He expected someone to interrupt and call his bluff, but they all just sat there, waiting for him to finish.

“‘...And, how do I know this?’ You all may be wondering. Well- uh-- it’s probably best to start with this universe’s theogony,” DP started, suddenly blanking on all the stuff he had planned out. “You all might have heard some old myth about the two gods of order and chaos-- Galeem and Dharkon respectively-- they’re the ones who have the power to create and destroy universes at will. It’s happened a number of times, there’s been a bunch of iterations by now. I have no idea why the hell they decide to do this, but I think when you have that much power, you kind of become unhinged…”

“What DP means to say,” Meggy added, “Is that all this crap is actually real.”

Thank goodness she was there to help him along. “Yeah. We’re almost at the end of this iteration. And I know this because-- well, I’m not a god, but--” Once again, he summoned his wings, just to illustrate his point. “I’m an angel. Specifically made to be a servant to the gods.”

“Of which there’s many!” Meggy interjected once more.

“But, obviously, I’m not doing that. I haven’t done that for hundreds of years. But I know a few gods, and they told me the date that the world’s supposed to end on. Galeem and Dharkon hand it out so the gods and all their servants can make it out of the universe successfully before everything is obliterated.”

“So… we’re all going to die soon, is what you’re saying,” Lucas asked, face showing a bit of concern.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

Obviously the wrong thing to say, as everyone’s expressions broke out into slight alarm.

“BUT! Fortunately for you, I’ve been planning a way to stop this from happening for a long time. That's why you’re all here-- you’re gonna help me do that.”

Akira furrowed his brows. “But, what of the giant hands? I came for that, not your nonsensical creation myth.”

DP gritted his teeth. “I’m not entirely sure where the hands are coming from, but my theory is that they’re after Link over here.”

Upon hearing his name, Link’s head immediately shot up from staring at the floor.

“The entire apocalypse rides on his role in it. At some point, he’s gonna find some legendary sword, which is supposed to gather up all the chaotic energy of the destroyed universe into one singularity before Galeem and Dhakon explode it in a Big Bang of sorts and start the universe all over again. The hands, specifically, are probably being sent to train him somehow.”

“Fat load of good that’s done,” Akira joked.

Zelda, who had been lost in thought during DP’s entire spiel, suddenly spoke up. “So, do you know how this whole ‘end of the world’ thing is supposed to play out? Because it sounds like we need a plan outside of beating up these giant hands.”

DP glanced at his purple piece of cardstock, taped to the wall, just like always. Still lacking anything beyond a first order of business. “...Frankly, I have no idea. I’m not, uh, really in the loop with how this stuff works unless someone’s gracious enough to tell me.”

“Is there a way you could find this out?” 

“Yes. But not immediately.” Indeed, he could probably pester Viridi, though it was probably anyone’s guess whether or not she’d actually be willing to help him out. Put that on the to-do list.

After that, everyone in the room fell silent, not quite sure what to say or think in response to the strange but alarming information that had just been dumped on their heads.

Then, Meggy jumped up from her seat on the floor. “But! We have part of a plan. Do you want to stop this apocalypse, or not?”

A murmur of ‘yeahs’ and other similar sentiments was spoken by the group before her.

“That’s what I thought,” she grinned. “Ninten Fight Club! The kids from Ninten Academy! In a fight club! That’s who we are! Here, we train. Here’s where we learn how to literally face down God himself and come at him with our fists of fury. Because, let’s face it, we’re gonna need to know how if we want to stand a chance. Who’s with me?”

If this fanfiction could have audio, there would be cricket chirps echoing through the warehouse right about now.

Akira coughed. “Do either you or DP actually know how to fight? Like, at all?”

“Well, outside of playing paintball? Probably not. Maybe I’d have good aim or something if you gave me a gun. But DP over here,” Meggy answered, jerking a thumb towards a overwhelmed-looking DP, “He’s fought gods before. He knows what he’s doing. Right, dude?”

“More or less,” he stammered. “I’ve got a rifle… that I’m pretty good at using… amongst other things.”

“Well, if it's worth anything,” Link started, finally speaking up, “A fighting chance is better than no chance at all, is it not?”

“Uh, yeah. And it’s not like you all are completely inept to begin with,” DP added. “Link’s got a magical destiny we can use as leverage against the gods. Ness and Lucas, you guys have psychic powers. Akira leads a group of vigilantes. And Zelda’s incredibly smart. She could probably do better logistics for the team than the rest of us combined.”

“And me?” Meggy interjected.

“...And Meggy is, um, good at being an enthusiastic team leader.”

“That’s what I thought, Dipshit Pooplord.”

“All this is to say, we have some kind of a chance. We know we can beat the hands. It’s just a matter of getting better,” DP finished.

Meggy pumped her fist in the air. “So, who’s ready to learn how to kick some ass?”

\----

DP, not really knowing how to start, just deposited his entire hammerspace arsenal of weapons he had collected onto the floor and let everyone mess around with them for a bit. It kept everyone distracted while he quickly tried to think of an order of business.

“You really didn’t think this through, did you?” Zelda commented, walking over DP, who was leaning against his planning wall. He winced to himself. She wasn’t thrilled about stopping by this evening, and he certainly wasn’t doing a good job of convincing her to stay.

“...Not really. I told you, I don’t really know what I’m doing. I’ve never had a team before,” he admitted.

“In all your years? I find that kind of hard to believe.”

“That’s the facts. I’m a loner.”

“It _is_ pretty obvious,” Zelda smirked.

“You know what? I’m doing my best-- MEGGY! PUT THE REVOLVER DOWN! Don’t you idiots even _think_ about shooting the guns, unless you want to be arrested tonight!”

“SORRY!” Meggy yelped.

“Case in point: yes, I have no idea what I’m doing,” DP finished, sighing exasperatedly.

Staring over DP’s shoulder, Zelda noticed the purple piece of cardstock on the wall, reading it over. “...Would you like some help?”

DP almost objected immediately, but… yeah, he’d been trying to solo things this whole time. He had only finally started to make progress because Meggy had offered one of her own ideas. He’d admitted it himself: Zelda was a logistical powerhouse. If anyone could help, it would be her. That’s why she was brought onto the team, anyways. “Yes,” he answered, after a moment of silence.

“Good,” Zelda said, clapping her hands together. “Now, I’m not at all experienced in the world of combat, but here’s what I’d do, if I were you: just start basic. Your weapons over there might be cool, but it’s probably best if we all knew how to defend ourselves with our bare hands, right?”

She… _wanted_ to help?

“I guess.”

“Begin there. Teach them all how to throw a punch correctly. If you know the basics, everything’s easier after that, is it not?”

“It’s a little more complicated than that… and I don’t think you could punch a giant floating hand to death...” DP trailed off.

“Buuuut… you don’t have any better ideas.”

“No, I don’t.”

Zelda smirked. “Go, then. Show them some stuff!” With that, she shoved him back out towards the aimless crowd.

Everyone’s eyes were on him again as he approached. DP swallowed nervously, once more.

“Where’d you get all this stuff?” Ness asked, holding a longsword that probably dated back to the medieval era.

“You know… I just kinda picked this stuff up. And I never got rid of it. Some of it’s crap, like what you’re holding. It was a sword from some low-level page a long time ago.”

“You could get pretty rich off all this stuff, if it’s all legit artifacts,” Akira commented.

“How do you think I’ve been paying my rent?”

“Ah. Checks out.”

Better say something now, before the conversation gets out of hand again. “Okay, so, I know my pseudo-armory is pretty cool,” DP began, raising his voice to get everyone’s attention, “but if we want to get anywhere, you’re going to have to start basic.”

He glanced over his shoulder to Zelda. She winked at him.

“By… punching each other.”

“Ha! Get ready, Lucas!” Ness exclaimed, raising his fists in the blond kid’s face.

“NOT LEGITIMATELY! No one’s going to actually get punched here,” DP clarified, groaning. “We’ll do like they do in the movies, where everyone pairs up and shreds each other when you suck. So here’s what I usually do: fist like this, thumb always on the outside-- unless you want to shatter it-- lead with your first two knuckles, like this…” Sticking his arm out, he demonstrated the movement. “You kinda tilt your wrist down. Got it?”

Everyone stared up at him blankly.

“I think so,” Meggy added, trying to be helpful.

“And the rest of you lot?”

“I’m just kind of confused about what the point is here?” Link eventually spoke up. 

DP sighed forcefully. “...You guys don’t really know what’s going on, do you?”

Akira shrugged. “Frankly, everything you’ve just told us sounds like nonsense. There’s obviously some strange magic stuff going on here, I’ll give you that, but… the end of the world. Seriously?”

Oh, he had really hoped this wasn’t going to be the outcome of their meeting. Looks like watching Ratatouille with Meggy wasn’t so far off in his future, unless he made some last-ditch gambit. “Okay, look. I really don’t grovel in front of other people that much. Meggy and Link can attest to that. But right now, I am _begging_ you to believe me. This stupid club here is the only way I’m going to be able to do anything to stop the apocalypse, and I’m incredibly sorry that I don’t have any other way to prove this to you. If I did, you’d know about it immediately. But this is it. You’re gonna have to take a leap of faith here.”

He stared out at everyone, eyes pleading. 

_Please let somebody believe me._

Before anyone could say anything, however, a thundering boom was heard from outside.

“Shit. We’ve got company,” DP hissed, voice dropping low with fear.

“What is it?” Ness asked, frantically glancing around the room. Lucas grabbed onto his hand.

DP ran to the giant pile of weapons on the floor to grab his rifle. “Either a Crazy Hand or a terrorist attack. And I’m inclined to believe it's the latter.”

“Aw, hell yeah,” Meggy grinned. “I’ve been waiting for this.”

“Nope! You all are staying in here. Although, I guess, if you’ve got your guns, Akira, you can come too.” Akira nodded, shuffling towards the door.

“Well, wait, hold on,” Lucas exclaimed. “Let us help. That’s why we’re here!”

“Yeah!” Meggy echoed.

No, no, no, no. DP glanced off frantically to the side, listening for more explosion sounds. “You guys don’t stand a _chance_ out there! I don’t want you dying on me.”

“Hey. You said yourself that you gathered us specifically because you had trust in our abilities. Is it not hypocritical for you to deny us a chance to prove ourselves?” Zelda argued, crossing her arms. “We’re not ‘completely inept.’”

Another boom resounded through the street outside. He really needed to go.

The group stared back at him with determined faces.

Zelda’s right, DP thought. At some point, he’s going to need to let these others help him; that point happens to be right now.

“Okay, then,” DP started, grimacing. “Akira, get out there. I’ll join you in a sec.”

Akira nodded, taking his mask out of his jacket pocket and dashing to the door. “Got it.”

“Meggy, you take a gun. And not that crappy movie-set one you were waving around earlier. Ness, Lucas, you guys are probably fine on your own. Just keep your distance and watch each other’s backs.”

“I also have a baseball bat,” Ness added, gesturing towards his backpack in the corner.

“...Great. Use that, if you know how. Link, take this sword here.” He grabbed one of the good ones off the floor, and deposited it into Link’s hands.

Link looked up at him with hesitation. “Should I, uh, know how to use this?”

“I don’t know. But it’s better than nothing.”

“Okay?”

Zelda stepped forward, as DP turned to address her. “You all get out there. I’ll stay here and defend the place if the hand gets near.”

“How are you going to do that?”

“Oh, I have fists. And I can probably figure out how to bludgeon something with one of these weapons, if I really need to,” she stated firmly, pointing towards the pile of arms on the floor.

“...Okay, then,” DP nodded. With one sweeping gesture, he gathered everyone else to the door. “Alright, folks. Everyone, stay behind me when we go out. I’ve got shields if we get shot at. Stay defensive, but hit the hand if you can. I’ll try to bring it to the ground. Got it?”

Meggy pumped a fist in the air. “LET’S GOOOO!” 

“We’re moving out!”

As stealthily as possible, DP ran out the door and into the street, the rest of the group trailing close behind. Perhaps about a few hundred feet away from their position was the Crazy Hand, hovering in the sky, relatively unfazed by all the holes Akira was shooting in it.

“Took you long enough!” Akira grunted, dashing over to the group.

The hand seemed to notice the crowd; with a ferocious movement of its fingers, it fired a barrage of lasers at them. Thinking fast, DP threw up his shields, ricocheting the projectiles into a nearby building.

So much for avoiding property damage.

“...Pro tip number one, guys: don’t do that,” he breathed. “Everyone okay?”

“We’re fine,” Lucas answered, “But what now?”

“I think I weakened it at least a bit. So hopefully it should come down faster?” Akira offered.

DP squinted up at the floating hand, mind turning over what to do. “I’m gonna fly up there and go crazy on it. You all can try to hit it, if you want, but your first priority should be not dying. When it starts coming down, just start whaling on it. Will you be alright without me?”

“Yes, you dummy!” Meggy shouted, shoving DP out from the group. “Now get up there already!”

He gazed at her with a fear-filled expression. She grinned, flashing him a thumbs-up.

...Yeah, they could handle themselves.

“Alright. I’m off!” 

With that, DP launched into the sky, flourishing his rifle in an attempt to establish superiority over the hand. “Okay, you motherfucker. Come get some!”

The group on the ground stood for a moment, watching DP’s silhouette fire shots into the hand.

“...Now what?” Ness blurted out.

Without warning, Meggy suddenly bolted back in the direction of the house.

“Hey, uh, where are you going?” Link shouted after her.

“To get on the roof! I’m short as hell, how else am I supposed to reach that thing?”

Akira ran after her. “I’ll join you! You three just stick down here.”

“Ground control,” Ness smirked.

Link turned back in the direction of the hand. Then his eyes blew wide open.

“GUYS, WATCH OUT--”

“PK MAGNET!”

An incoming barrage of lasers was suddenly absorbed into the glowing blue forcefield that suddenly appeared around Lucas.

All three of them stood there for a moment, shocked.

“...I didn’t know you could do that,” Link commented.

“Me neither!” Lucas breathed.

From the roof, Meggy and Akira gazed down at the scene unfolding below them.

“Dude, that’s sick!” Meggy yelled. Akira nodded in agreement, and then turned back to the hand in the sky.

“Do you know how to fire a gun?” he asked.

Meggy blinked. “I mean, you just pull the trigger, and then-- BAM! Instant death.”

“There’s a lot of recoil, so make sure you’re very steady when you do shoot. You’ll see what I mean,” he explained. Taking his own pistol, he aimed it back towards the hand, and fired, hitting it square in the palm.

“Gottem.”

“My turn!” Meggy exclaimed, attempting to fire off her own shot.

The bullet whizzed right past DP’s face, and nowhere near the hand. “Holy shit, watch where you’re shooting!” he screamed down to them.

Neither heard him from all the way up there, of course. “Did I do good?” Meggy asked, turning to Akira with a megalomaniacal grin on her face.

“Mmm… no. You almost killed DP, actually.”

“Oh, he can take a few shots. HEY! DP! WATCH OUT, I’M SHOOTING AGAIN!”

DP cringed as the next bullet arced far above his head before landing somewhere on the next block over. Looks like a hefty amount of target practice was in their future.

The hand seemed to have significant damage at this point, between whatever he and Akira had managed to do to it. Its normal finger twitching had dulled out, and more and more of its lasers completely missed the general vicinity the group was occupying. If he hit it a few more times, it would probably go down.

Looking down, he surveyed his group. Everyone seemed to be doing just fine.

His grand plan was finally working.

This would be easy. Racing closer to the hand, he continued firing at it, each one a direct shot. It couldn’t even escape his aim anymore.

“Yeah! Make it RAIN!” Meggy whooped, watching the Crazy Hand begin to descend out of the sky.

DP swooped closer down to where Link, Ness, and Lucas were standing. “It’s coming down. We gotta finish it off now!”

“Rodger!” Ness yelled back, swinging his baseball bat around frantically while charging towards the hand.

However, right as it became grounded, the Crazy Hand flipped off of its back and onto its fingers. Like an insect, it began crawling towards the group. Ness jumped out of its way in fear. The other two stood frozen, faces blank in shock.

“Pretty sure it’s not supposed to do that…” Link muttered.

Without thinking, DP dove out of the sky, forcefully shoving the two of them out of the way of its grasp. The three went tumbling down to the road below. “Don’t worry about it anymore,” he seethed. “I’ll just take it out myself.” Instinctively, he tried to summon his blades, but…

Shit. They were laying in the massive pile of weapons back in the warehouse.

Link suddenly grabbed his head. “Ow--”

“Uh, Link?” Lucas asked frantically, clutching his shoulder.

The hand reoriented itself and began speedily crawling back towards the group.

“PK FIRE!” Ness yelled, hurtling a flaming projectile at it. The hand merely flicked it away. Ness’ expression dropped into unexpected horror.

“Link, give me your sword, right now,” DP hissed. 

“DP, I don’t think he’s okay…” Lucas trailed off, attempting to figure out what was happening to Link.

“Fire your staff at it some more!” Meggy screamed from atop the roof, she and Akira aiming down at the hand with their guns.

None of the shots really seemed to affect the hand. In retaliation, it started shooting more lasers out of its fingertips again-- this time, in much closer range, and far more deadly.

Lucas threw up PK Magnet again to protect the group.

“Oh my God, Link, _say something!_ ” DP yelled, in a frenzy.

Link blinked slowly, removing his hand from his forehead. He stared ahead at the hand with a sudden, intense look in his eyes.

...That hadn’t been there before.

“Link--”

But before DP could finish his thought, Link dashed out of the protective forcefield, sword in his grip, headed directly for the Crazy Hand.

Everyone watched on in semi-horrified awe as Link proceeded to face off the hand, with a skill and strength that none of them-- including Link himself-- even knew that he had. It appeared almost as if he had studied the blade for his whole life. He swiftly dodged around the hand’s lasers, parried a few back at it with the sword, and then slid up right to its palm, before delivering a series of swift, fatal strikes straight through its body.

The hand reached out, weakly, one last time. Link plunged the sword directly into its core. It faded from existence around the glinting blade.

He fell over, panting heavily.

“...What the fuck?” DP suddenly blurted, after everyone stood there awkwardly for a moment. “How’d you do that?”

“I… don’t know,” Link wheezed. “I just kinda did it.”

The sound of sirens was then heard in the distance. 

“I dunno about you guys,” Lucas started, “But we should probably get back inside before the police get here. Because they’re coming.”

Ness immediately turned to run back into the warehouse. “You bet.”

DP stared at Link, who was still gaining his bearings on the ground. Frankly, he had no idea where Link’s sudden proficiency had come from-- probably something to do with magical destiny, if he thought about it for a second. A seriously convenient turn of events that the ability had awoken in him when it did.

He extended a hand down to Link. “Need some help?”

Shakily, Link grabbed it, hauling himself off the ground. “I’m good now. ‘S all good.”

“Nice job out there.”

“...I try.”

\----

Here is what the general consensus was after their fight: if anyone didn’t believe in the magic horseshit, they definitely believed it now. Ninten Fight Club was immediately established, with the agreement of all seven of its members; if not for the purpose of stopping the apocalypse, at least for the purpose of defending their town against the threat of the giant hands.

Everyone had felt a sort of synergy between each other that night. They may have been a scrappy seven, but together, it felt like they could take on anything.

“We’re like the Power Rangers!” Meggy exclaimed.

“...No, it really just sounds like we’re living in some shitty YA novel,” Akira added.

“Or a crappy fanfiction!” Zelda piped up.

“Well, it’s real life, so get used to it,” DP grunted.

He may have acted as his usual disgruntled self on the outside, but on the inside, he couldn’t have been happier with the way things had gone that night. Sure, their fight was incredibly sloppy, but they had beaten the hand successfully. His team could really only get better from here, right?

After most everyone had left for the night, DP held Meggy and Link back to talk to them.

“Okay, now, I trust you two more than anyone else who was here tonight, so I’m going to leave this mission to the two of you,” DP started. “If you think you’ve found someone who could join the team, don’t hesitate to bring them along to a meeting. We’re gonna need all the help we can get.”

“Capiche!” Meggy saluted.

“Sounds good,” Link nodded. 

DP clapped his hands together. “Okay, that’s all. You’re free to go.”

“Good,” Link laughed lightly. “I’m hella tired.”

And he really did deserve the rest, after his impressive showing on the streets. Not even Link himself seemed to know where his mysterious skill had come from.

Meggy and DP stood by the doorway, waving him off as he left.

“So. Looks like my idea’s working out, huh?” Meggy commented, hands on her hips, looking at DP with a smug grin on her face.

“Yes, I admit, things went well,” he grunted. “And now I’m going to be picking up burger wrappers from the dark recesses of my house for the next week.”

His guests sure didn’t know how to clean up after themselves, he noted with chagrin.

“Aw, don’t be Mister Grumpy Face. You’re secretly thrilled, I can tell.”

“First off, don't call me that ever again. And second?” At this, an uncontrollable smile suddenly broke out on his face. “I can’t believe this might actually work.”

“Yeah?” she grinned back.

“Yeah.”

Meggy spontaneously threw her arms around him, squeezing him in a bone-breaking hug. He didn’t try to fight it.

“You’re doing good, DP.”

“...Thanks, dude.”

  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, if you've made it this far, thanks for sticking around???? 
> 
> updates monday, for the time being.
> 
> peace out.


	12. XI. Pit Attempts to Join the School Play

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that feeling when you want to be a theater kid but you're kind of shy so you do the next best thing and it ends up being better
> 
> \----

September 22nd, 2019. Two hundred and eighty-three days out.

“IT’S DOWN! I REPEAT, THE HAND IS DOWN!”

“GET ‘EM, LINK!”

There Pit sat, perched on some random rooftop, surveying the battle from a safe, unnoticeable distance.

Seems like Dark Pit… er, DP, he guessed, had assembled some sort of group of humans to take down the hands being sent by Galeem and Dharkon. And it was working. Somehow. It must have been them, too, who defeated the third one last Friday night.

...If that’s all DP was doing, then Pit had nothing to worry about. His counterpart’s rebellion would be squashed as soon as the gods found it fit to do so.

Look at him go. He’s still got the moves, all these years later.

How much does he know?

Pit found his eyes wandering to study Link’s movements. He was a natural at sword fighting-- as was expected-- but DP seemed to be coaching him on, as well.

Hm.

There’s an idea.

\----

September 23rd, 2019. Two hundred and eighty-two days out.

A Monday morning in Palutena’s suburban house.

As usual, both Pit and his goddess were up early in the morning, ready to take on whatever their respective days meant for them. For Palutena, that varied drastically from day to day. For Pit, that meant... going to school, for the time being. Before all that, of course, they always shared morning breakfast with each other.

Neither of them had ever been any good at making food. So, breakfast usually consisted of stuff from the store. Today, for Pit, that meant those awful Froot Loops he’d bought from Safeway on a run the other day. Yeah, he felt like he was slowly contributing to an eventual cardiac arrest every time he ate them, but dang, they tasted good.

He sat across from Palutena at their circular table, a small little object inside a very large dining room. She wasn’t eating anything, outside of a steaming mug of mint tea.

Today, Pit had a plan in his mind that he needed to address with her. It was just a matter of managing to sputter it out. Normally, his ideas were fairly idiotic, and as much as Palutena insisted otherwise, both of them knew she was the only rightful brains of their duo. Surely, whatever he had to say wouldn’t be any different. But it never hurt to try, he figured.

“So…” Pit started, attempting to make conversation. “How was your date last night? With, uh, Bayanette, was it?”

“Oh, you mean Bayonetta. She was, ah, quite something, to be sure,” Palutena smiled, laughing to herself. “She took me out to some place in town. Things got a _little_ bit crazy. Responsibly crazy, of course.”

Glad to see Lady Palutena was spending her last few months in this iteration of the universe doing useful stuff. “That’s great,” Pit said, forcing a grin.

“Did you know, she has a nephew who’s at the same school as you. Akira, I think is his name?”

“Never heard of him.”

He poked at his bowl of cereal with his spoon.

Palutena’s cheerful countenance then fell a bit, as she noticed Pit’s eyes staring distantly out the large window behind her. “...Is something on your mind, Pit?”

Oh, thank goodness she was so good at reading him. 

“Well… I figured out what Dark Pit’s up to,” he started.

“You have?” said Palutena, curious.

“Yeah... I guess we already know he’s been taking out some of Dharkon’s hands, but I think he’s getting a bunch of humans to help him, too. I watched them fight one of the Crazy Hands last night, actually.”

“Seems foolish.”

“That’s what I thought, too. But Link’s on his team. He gave Link a sword and everything.”

Palutena put a hand on her chin. “If I had to conjecture, Dark Pit probably thinks that putting Link in opposition to his role will thwart the cosmic plan in some way.”

“But that’s not going to work, right?”

“Of course not,” she chuckled. “It’s just another futile rebellion. He can’t stand in the way of inevitability.”

Pit took a deep breath. “Well, and, of course, I’m not saying you have to listen to me here…”

“Go on?”

“What if, when Link finds the actual sword… we just let him, um, stay on Dark Pit’s team… and then we don’t try to intervene? Because if we leave him mostly in the dark about what he’s supposed to do, then he’s less likely to believe it and try to rise against it…”

Palutena cocked her head to the side. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t really know…”

“No, no, I think I understand where you’re coming from. If we let Dark Pit train Link, then he’ll inadvertently prepare him for what he has to do, and we won’t have to worry about Link going against us, right?”

“More or less,” Pit shrugged, sliding down into his seat just a bit.

“This may be risky, you know.”

“Y-yeah, but it’s gonna be risky either way. Everything is kinda dependent on him, right? I don’t want to screw up.”

“Hm,” Palutena thought. “How would you go about this?”

Pit shrunk down into his chair a little bit. “Oh, I don’t know… what would you do?”

“If we were to go with your proposed plan-- at least for a bit-- then I guess you’d just keep attending that school for now, to keep watching Link. You could also try to get into Dark Pit’s group; though, he probably wouldn’t let you, to be honest.”

“So, just do what I’ve been doing?”

“Essentially, yes,” Palutena finished. “You could be onto something. Might as well try it out, you know?”

“Yeah,” Pit breathed, exhaling in relief.

He wasn’t ready to thrust Link to the hands of destiny quite yet. This plan he had proposed was really just a stall tactic to prevent him from having to do that. Why Lady Palutena agreed to go along with it, he had no idea; maybe it was actually smart, in the long run, or maybe not. Didn’t matter, though. If it worked, it worked.

After quickly dumping the remains of his cereal in the kitchen sink and scurrying up the staircase, he stood around in contemplation in his empty room for several minutes, completely distracted from trying to get ready for the day ahead.

Some part of him felt like throwing up for lying to her.

It wasn’t lying, was it? It was just a completely legitimate alternate method of doing things.

Right.

Just go about your day. Everything’s alright.

Palutena stopped him on his way to the door, calling over her shoulder from the couch in the living room.

“If you’re planning on keeping this whole student charade up, you may want to consider acting more like one,” she winked.

“S-sure!”

She waved, smiling. “Have a nice day!”

“You too!”

\----

Unfortunately, it was a rainy Monday. Link and Pit were forced out of their usual lunchtime spot outside and into the dry refuge of the cafeteria. It was chaotic and noisy, as always, but the two of them managed to find a spot on the floor in a quieter corner of the large room.

“God, I’m exhausted,” Link groaned, running a hand through his stringy hair. 

Pit took a large bite of his school pizza. “Didn’t sleep well?”

“No… I had a really weird dream.”

“Again?”

“Yeah. Kinda woke me up in the middle of the night. Almost fell asleep in class. I never do that.”

“That sucks.”

Pit had spent the majority of his morning classes zoning out and considering Palutena’s words. What, exactly, did a normal student do? Was it not just enough to go to class and then leave? Other people did that. Heck, Link did that. 

What did people in the movies do?

Uh… lots of partying, sports, being jerks to other people. 

Hm. 

“Link, do you think I seem… normal?” Pit suddenly blurted out, turning to Link. 

Link blinked incredulously, yawning. “What do you mean?”

“I dunno. Like, do I seem like your average high school student?”

“Well, uh,” Link mused, “I don’t think so at all. You’re positive, you don’t really care what others think… and I guess, you just kinda have this sense of wonder about you. That’s probably how I’d put it—“

“Yeah, yeah, thanks, of course, but do you think I seem _out of place?_ ” Pit interrupted, a little frustrated. 

“No?”

Well. That’s probably the best way Pit could phrase his question without giving anything away. He’d just have to take Link’s word for it. 

Link leaned his head against the wall, closing his eyes. Seems like he really _was_ exhausted. “I think… I’m gonna try to catch some sleep...” he mumbled. “Wake me up when the bell rings.”

“Whatever you say,” Pit chortled. 

If his friend was out of commission, then he had nothing to do for the next twenty minutes. He, too, leaned his head against the wall, looking up at the ceiling. 

...And a disorganized bulletin board, hanging on the wall. What was on it?

Out of aimless curiosity, Pit stood up, reading it over. It was a notification board, mostly peppered with various PSAs, old poems of the day, scholarship info sheets, and sign-ups for tutoring sessions in the library. What immediately caught Pit’s eye, however, was a black poster with a stylized skull on it, advertising the following:

_Come Audition For Ninten Academy’s Production of Hamlet!_

_Wednesday, September 25th, starting at 3:30 in the auditorium._

_Come prepared with a thirty-second monologue, and be ready to do cold-readings of the script._

Oh, of course, after-school clubs. _That_ was a very normal high-school student thing to do. Why hadn’t he thought of that earlier?

...Probably because he had no hobbies, at all.

However, the school play was not the place to join, if he was looking to start something. As much as Pit liked the idea of acting-- he’d remembered being a fan of it since some of the first drama productions in Greece, when he was very young-- he’d probably collapse into a nervous pile onstage during the auditions. There was no way he could perform in front of an audience. 

There was a little extra note at the bottom of the poster, though:

_Tech Crew Interest Meeting: Monday, September 23rd, at 3:30 pm, in the auditorium._

_Please come!!!_

Tech crew?

Link opened one eye, staring up at Pit. “Whatcha looking at?”

Pit squinted down at him. “I thought you were trying to sleep.”

“In this room? You can hear, like, seventy conversations going on at the same time.” Link grumbled. “It’s impossible.”

“What do you know about the tech crew?”

He blinked again, slowly. “You mean the theater tech crew? They basically do all the stuff backstage, like the costumes and the lights and the sound and stuff.” 

“Huh,” Pit thought, out loud. That sounded… less nerve-wracking than actually acting, to be sure. And, maybe, something that could be fun-- running around backstage, making everything in the show happen. Helping out. It was something he was actually kind of good at.

“You thinking about joining? I think they’re doing an interest meeting pretty soon… not really sure, though.”

“It’s today. That’s what this poster says.”

Link yawned, again. “You should go, then. If you want to.”

Wait a second. Show up to an interest meeting? On his own? He’d have no idea what to say. He supposed he could get Lady Palutena to tell him what to say, like always, but that's not exactly a ‘normal high-school student’ kind of thing to do, is it? “Uh, actually, I’m not really sure I want to,” Pit sputtered. “I don’t know anything about being on a tech crew, so I’d probably be pretty useless…”

“I’m sure they’d be able to teach you stuff.”

Pit cringed, looking at the poster. He did want to go, but… “Uh, could you, maybe, come with me to the interest meeting? I don’t know anybody here, so I think I’d… feel really awkward on my own.”

He stared down at Link, eyes begging. Link stared back up at him with a dead-tired expression.

“I’m kind of tired…” Link trailed off.

“Please? You don’t even have to say anything, you can just be there for moral support!”

After a few moments of staring at each other, Link broke eye contact, looking sheepishly at the ground. “...I can’t say no to that face.”

“Yes!” Pit grinned. “Thanks, Link.”

“Of course,” he smiled back.

\----

3:30 pm. In the auditorium.

Pit and Link awkwardly shuffled in through the heavy double-doors on the side of the giant space, peering out into the darkness to try to figure out where the meeting was taking place. Nobody seemed to be there, though-- not on the stage, not in the audience, and not in the balcony seats.

“Maybe it’s backstage?” Pit suggested, walking down the aisle towards the front. “The poster said it’d be in here, but maybe it was a typo or something? There’s classrooms behind backstage, too, I think.”

Link just shrugged.

They almost made it onto the stage, but then Link yanked Pit’s sleeve, getting his attention and pointing to a person with platinum blonde hair and a red jacket slumped down into a seat in the front of the audience. Were they… part of the tech crew? Pit wasn’t sure. They seemed to be the only person around.

He leaned over to Link. “Who’s that?”

“I dunno.”

“Let’s find out. HEY!” he shouted, causing Link to flinch. “Excuse me! Are you, um, here for the tech crew meeting?”

“So much for feeling awkward, huh?” Link mumbled. Pit rolled his eyes.

The person in the seat looked up slowly, rubbed their face, and then bolted up. “Yes! Uh, tech crew meeting! It’s here!” They briskly walked over to Pit and Link standing off to the side, extending both hands to the two of them in greeting. “I’m Shulk Nopon. Head of the motley tech crew!”

Oh. So… this _was_ the meeting, then. Pit and Link shared a quick glance, both suddenly realizing what they’d stumbled into.

He tentatively shook Shulk’s hand. “Where’s, uh, the rest of the tech crew?”

“Uh,” Shulk started, grimacing, “Not here, at the current moment. And… you’re the only people who’ve come to the interest meeting so far.”

“That’s unfortunate--”

“But that’s okay! Two people are better than none! Before I forget, what are your names?”

“Pit Halloway,” he said, smiling awkwardly.

“Link Wilden.”

Shulk’s face brightened. “Oh, wait, you’re Zelda’s friend, aren’t you?”

“You, uh, know her?”

“Yeah, we’re in, like, all the same classes this year. I didn’t know you were into theater?”

“Eh, I’m just here for moral support. So I probably won’t join,” Link said, nonchalantly, yawning yet again.

Pit paled a bit. Oh, come on. Why’d he have to go and say that right off the bat?

Shulk’s expression twitched. “Um. Considering that it’s now… 3:37,” he said, taking his phone out of his jacket pocket, “I’d assume _you’re_ the only ones coming.”

Link and Pit shared another look. This was turning depressing really quickly.

“So sorry that it’s just the three of us,” Shulk sighed in annoyance. “My friends Fiora and Reyn are the other two members, but they had to finish a test in class, so it’s just me today. We’re kind of a skeleton crew, after all the seniors last year graduated. And they don’t promo us very well at this school.” He looked up for a moment, noticing the two other’s slightly concerned expressions. “...Don’t worry! You can sit down over here, I’ll just explain everything to you.”

“Thank goodness you came,” Pit whispered to Link, putting his bag down on the ground under a seat. “I don’t think I could have handled all, uh, this on my own.”

Link smirked. “I don’t blame you.”

“SO!” Shulk began, hoisting himself up to sit on the edge of the stage. “I guess, to begin, I’ll explain what we do: basically, sound, lights, stage managing, the whole shebang. Not costumes and set, though. We leave that to the art kids.” He shivered. “Which is good, because I’m an abysmal artist. But, this is all kind of elementary stuff for tech crews, y’know?”

“I guess,” Pit echoed. “But I’ve never been on a tech crew before, so I wouldn’t really know.”

Shulk clapped his hands together. “You haven’t? Perfect! I can assign you to whatever we need, then.”

Well, that was fine, as long as he could actually be useful. “What would that be?”

“I’m on the sound board and cues, since I’m, uh, the only one that knows how to operate all that stuff,” Shulk mused, tapping his fingers on his chin. “And I guess I fix all the broken equipment. Fiora is the stage manager… and Reyn’s basically the one stage hand in the back, so he’s moving sets and helping people into costumes and such. So, I guess you could operate the lights up in the catwalk?”

Shulk pointed up towards the ceiling, where the inconspicuous black catwalk was. “It’s pretty simple, so you wouldn’t have to worry about programming or bossing people around. As long as you’re not worried about being up high, that is.”

Ha. Pit was the last person to be afraid of heights. This could be a perfect job, actually. “If that’s what you need me to do, then I’m down with it,” he responded, suddenly feeling a bit excited.

“Oh, perfect. Now we’re just barely functional as a team!” Shulk exclaimed. “Can I show you how it works? Since we seem to have a lot of time, eheh.”

“Sure!”

\----

Pit followed Shulk all the way up onto the catwalk. He stared down into the mass of chairs below. Kind of a strange angle to be looking at things at, now that he was seeing it.

“Okay!” Shulk started, placing his hand on a spotlight attached to the railing. “So, we’ve got a few of these big guys. This here’s a followspot-- it’s that spotlight that you always see in productions, the one that follows whoever’s onstage around. If we had more people, we could use more of them, but I guess this’ll just have to do for now. Unless your arms can multitask enough to do two at once?”

Oh, fun… technology. Hopefully Shulk wasn’t lying when he said this would be easy to use. “So… what do I do? Do I just turn it on and kinda move it around?”

Shulk chuckled. “Not quite. It’s got a few functions that let you fiddle around with the beam of light. You can control the intensity with this, and the beam size with this, the focal length with this, and then there’s also the option to change the color of the light, if we decide to.”

Pit watched on in interest as Shulk demonstrated the spotlight’s various functions. It didn’t look too complicated. Just kind of mess around with the beam until it looks good, and voila. Nice spotlight effect.

“Oh, wait, hold on a second,” Shulk blurted out, after a few minutes of letting Pit experiment around with the thing. “Let me bring the house lights down, and then you can actually see what the beam looks like during a show.” With that, he left Pit to stand alone on the catwalk, scrambling down the stairs to the sound booth.

Yikes. Hopefully, he wouldn’t accidentally break anything without Shulk around.

“I’m on the god-mic!” Shulk’s voice exclaimed, booming through the auditorium over the speaker system. “Get ready-- bringing the lights down now!”

It was dark. Pit could hardly see the giant device in front of him.

And then the light went on, beaming down onto the stage.

“Just cued your light on. Normally, I’ll talk to you over a headset, so you know what to do with the spot. And you’ll have a cue sheet. And a desk light. Sorry if you can’t see anything!”

Tentatively, Pit tried to move the thing around… oh, neat. Look at it go.

“Hey, Link, could you do me a favor and stand onstage? Just so Pit can follow you around with the spot,” Shulk asked. 

Link stood up silently, without protesting, and swung himself over the edge of the stage, walking directly into the center of the spotlight.

Pit gazed down at him. Link stood illuminated in the unnatural stage light, the only visible thing in the otherwise pitch-black room; hand over his eyes, attempting to search for Pit somewhere in the dark heights of the ceiling.

“Cool! Can you make it blue?”

Absentmindedly, Pit fumbled around with the filters for a moment, before the blinding white light changed.

Link still stood there, alone in a sea of blue.

He was beautiful.

...Not that Pit would ever say that to his face. 

There was nothing there.

“PIT!”

Besides, Link was calm and collected, serene in the blue light. Pit was _anything_ but. He’d dragged Link off to some silly interest meeting just because he didn’t have it together enough to go on his own.

Yet, here he was, standing on the stage, just because he’d been asked to.

“PIT!”

Uh, was that Shulk?

Yes, yes it was. On the god-mic.

...He’d zoned out.

“Can you make the beam bigger?”

“Uh, yeah, sorry!” he yelled down, hoping Shulk would be able to hear his apology.

“No worries! You’re doing great!”

Pit exhaled. At least there was that.

\----

“Well,” Shulk said, after finishing his demonstration, “You're hired. If you want to be, that is.”

“Of course!” Pit affirmed, grabbing his bag off of the ground. “You feel kind of powerful up there, you know? Being the one who gets to move the spotlight around.”

“It’s pretty iconic,” Shulk winked. “In any case, we haven’t really worked out meeting times yet, since rehearsals haven’t started, so I’ll get back to you on that.” He paused. “Oh, wait. I have an idea. Director’s doing auditions this Wednesday. You can come then, and operate spot on whoever’s auditioning. For practice!”

“If you need me to, then yeah!” 

“Cool. It’s a deal! Guess I’ll see you then.”

“Sounds good,” Pit grinned.

Hopefully, he reflected to himself, being a part of the tech crew would help contribute to his ‘student charade.’ Surely, it would, right? Now he could tell anyone who asked that he was a theater kid, and never have to elaborate again, since everyone knows what theater kids are like. 

Shulk was super nice, too; if, perhaps, a little overwhelmed by his task. But helping people out is what Pit tended to do the best, so this whole opportunity had turned into a strikingly useful coincidence.

Shulk flashed him a grin on the way out, and Pit felt… accepted, like a strange, light feeling replacing a usual weight on his chest.

Well, hopefully he seemed normal. Especially to Link. It seemed as if he didn’t suspect a thing.

Good. He really didn’t want their friendship to get ruined by an uncovering of his lie.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think the posting of this fic got kinda screwed over by the AO3 backdating (because I have no idea what I'm doing ahaha). This is what I get for leaving this laying around in my drafts for almost a month
> 
> but hey, I'm here now, I'm updating, we're all good. 
> 
> 8)


	13. XII. Old Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gee, how come YOUR space mom lets you have TWO dads?
> 
> \----

September 26th, 2019. Two hundred and seventy-nine days out.

_ A Comprehensive Guide to Stopping the Apocalypse. _

_ Step One: form a team. _

_ Step Two: figure out how the hell the apocalypse is supposed to pan out in the first place _

Well fuck.

Per Zelda’s advice, DP had been trying to figure out how to squeeze some more information about the blow-by-blow of the apocalypse from people he knew. Progress on this was, as usual, moving at a snail’s pace. Mostly because… who was there to ask? He guessed there was just Viridi, but he really didn’t feel like hauling ass all the way to her place in the middle of the week-- not when he had this new fight club to worry about.

Ninten Fight Club had met a few times since their first outing. Fortunately, none of their meetings had been interrupted by more giant hands (yet) so DP was able to focus on teaching everyone basic hand-to-hand combat training. It was going remarkably well, he thought; just like in the movies, everyone was pairing up and training with each other, and Meggy had even bought a shoddy punching bag with her mom’s credit card for them to use. Though a  _ few _ people in the group liked to goof off in the middle of demonstrations (read: Ness and Lucas), everyone was willing to listen to DP and do what he was telling them to do.

It felt nice, being the guy in charge. People were finally listening to him. Nobody ever did that.

It was also incredibly exhausting.

Zelda stopped him in the middle of a meeting, and promptly told him he needed to go take a break as soon as everyone left. (Since when did she start caring about him?)

“Your brain’s fried. Go do something else. I’ll think up something to say to this Viridi lady,” she instructed.

DP slumped against the wall of his home, watching everyone clumsily try to punch and kick each other. “But you don’t even know her…” he mumbled.

“And she doesn’t listen to you.”

Fair point.

To get his mind off things, DP decided to take a trip to the library, and find some books. Reading was his perfect escapist fantasy, and he kind of needed it right now more than ever. 

Walking in, he completely eschewed all the other sections of the library and made a beeline for the children’s section. This was where all the good fantasy novels were, as the YA genre was total shit, and the adult books were all about depressing family dynamics. DP had been alive for over a millennium. He’d lost the ability to care about what others thought of his book selections. If any moms dared to give him the suspicious stink-eye while he was browsing the shelves, he’d glare right back.

Nothing new was in, unfortunately. Looks like he’d have to comb back over all the stuff he’d already read to find some new reading material.

Here’s something… Cave Story.

He wandered over to the beanbag circle in the corner of the library. May as well do some reading, since he’s here-- he didn’t feel like returning to the imposing walls of his home quite yet. Beanbags were comfy. Comfier than the recycled couch cushions on his floor at home that he’d swiped from some thrift store.

It was peace, for a moment, until his mind was invaded by the sound of a crayon scribbling on paper.

...Some kid was drawing at the coloring table.

Some kid with bright pink hair.

He did a double take. Surely it wasn’t…

No, it was probably not. That would be a  _ scary _ coincidence.

He cautiously stood up anyways, inconspicuously walking past the table to grab a tissue, glancing at the kid out of the corner of his eye. He couldn’t really make out his face, under his messy pink bangs, or his oversized sweater.

Suddenly, he looked up at DP, immediately noticing his gaze. Giant, deep blue, starry eyes, studying his face. “...Do I know you?” The kid spoke up, bluntly.

Oh, shit. 

It  _ was _ him. Yes, he did!

Though he’d grown it out and cut it off hundreds of times since the last time they’d seen each other, DP scrambled to pull what was left of his short hair up into a ponytail with his hands, hoping the kid would recognize him. “It’s Iris… remember me?” he said, in a bit of a frenzy.

“The angel?”

“Yeah! You-- you’re  _ actually  _ Kirby?”

Kirby-- the kid-- burst out into a massive smile, practically bounding over the table to throw his arms around DP’s waist. “I remember you!”

Kirby was a very old friend of his, a protector of Rosalina, the space goddess. 

Once, many years ago, during some of DP’s earlier days on his own down on Earth, he’d found an injured Kirby, crash-landed in a field not too far from where he was living at the time. Kirby was wounded from a fight with one of the many outer gods that roamed around in empty space-- demon-like Eldritch abominations, intent on nothing but destruction. Somehow, DP was able to nurse him back to health, with the limited medical knowledge he’d possessed.

Kirby was the first friend he’d ever had, outside of those he knew in Skyworld. If you could even consider them friends.

He disappeared one day, though, in the early-morning sunrise. Probably to go continue his fight. He was a Star Warrior, after all. It was what he had to do.

DP watched him fly off into the sky. He could only hope he was out somewhere, marvelling at the infinite depths of space.

But now, centuries later, Kirby was… here. A normal kid, in a very normal, suburban library.

What were their lives coming to?

DP patted the top of his head, his normally unamused face melting into a smile. “Hey there. ‘S been a while, huh?”

“Yeah,” Kirby said, voice muffled by DP’s jacket. “How are you?”

“I’m… okay, I guess.”

“That’s better than bad!”

“...Yeah.”

Looks like he hadn’t really changed at all-- still the affectionate, adorable ball of cheer DP remembered from before.

Eventually, Kirby peeled himself away from DP, and plopped back down in his chair. DP pulled out the chair across from him, sitting down as well. “So… what are you doing here? Back on Earth?” he asked, in a hushed voice.

“On a mission from Mama,” Kirby replied simply, twiddling his crayon around in his hand.

“You mean Rosalina?”

“Yup!”

A sudden wave of realization passed over DP. “What’s she got you here to do?”

“Have you heard about the end of the world?” Kirby asked, frowning.

“Yes. Or, uh, sort of. I know about parts of it.”

“We’re trying to find the guy with the sword. They’re supposed to be around here, but… I haven’t found them yet. Mama really wants to talk to them.”

Oh. If Kirby, and by extension Rosalina, were after Link-- presumably for the same reason as he was-- he could… get them on his side. He’d have a  _ goddess _ on his team. Someone who had answers. Someone who wasn’t Viridi.

“A-are you guys trying to stop the apocalypse, too?” DP asked, practically tripping over his words in excitement.

Kirby shrugged, staring sheepishly down at his paper. “I guess? But I’m not really sure what we’re gonna do, after we find the sword guy…”

“I know the sword guy! His name’s Link, he’s my friend. We’re trying to stop the apocalypse together.”

“You do?”

Oh, yes. His plan was all falling into place. “Yeah! Do you want to meet him? We’re in a fight club together, we meet at night sometimes. Our next meeting’s tomorrow. You should come.”

Kirby looked up at DP, frown fading into an enthusiastic grin. “That sounds awesome! Do you fight bad guys together?”

“Well, we sort of fight the Crazy Hands, with some of my other friends--”

DP was suddenly cut off by a voice booming through the library, followed by an aggressive shush from the librarian at the counter. “KIRBY!”

Kirby twisted around in his seat, facing someone coming through the entrance to the children’s section. Two someones, actually.

“Daaaaaad!” Kirby whined. “Don’t talk so loud!”

DP started at the two approaching people in confusion. Dad? Kirby had a dad?

One of them walked over to Kirby, rubbing a large hand on top of Kirby’s head. “Sorry, Pinky, can’t help but get your attention,” he apologized. “Papá’s got his books from downstairs, so I think we’re gonna go now.”

_ Two _ dads?

“You got any books you wanna check out? I’ll carry ‘em for--” Kirby’s dad (?) suddenly stopped mid-sentence, noticing the sort of out-of-place DP sitting quizzically across the table. “Who’s this guy?” he asked, rather bluntly.

“Oh,” Kirby started, face brightening. “That’s Iris, the angel I was telling you about! Iris, this is my dad, and  _ he’s  _ my papá over there,” he said, pointing to the other man standing off to the side with a giant stack of books in his arms. “They’re not  _ really _ my dads, of course. But I let them pretend to be!”

Kirby flashed a grin as he put his arm around the dad right next to him. Okay, that’s pretty adorable.

He stuck out a hand across the table in greeting. “DP Leandros. Nice to meet you.”

Table Dad forcefully shook it with his own large hand. “Dell D. Durham. Most folks call me Dedede, though.”

“Aw, you changed your name?” Kirby burst out. “But I liked Iris!”

“Eh. I’ve called myself a bunch of different names. Probably too many for me to remember them all at this point,” DP chuckled. “It’s just kinda how I roll, you know? Never really the same person for long.”

“Phooey.” Kirby then jumped out of his chair, grabbed his other dad by the arm, and dragged him over to join the group. “Well, this is my papá. Wanna introduce yourself?”

Neatly, he placed his pile of books on the table, and then held his own hand out to DP. “Meta Hidalgo. A pleasure to meet you.”

Dedede smirked. “My fiance.”

“...Yes, we are engaged,” Meta sighed. “But do you really have to announce that to everyone we meet?”

“It’d be a crime not to.”

Meta sighed again, but was obviously hiding a small smile.

“Fun,” DP remarked, watching the two of them banter.

So… Kirby had found himself a surrogate family, down here on Earth, and they apparently knew of DP’s existence. Guess they probably also knew that their kid Kirby was a semi-immortal being with godlike powers. 

“So… DP,” Meta began, “What, exactly, brings you around here?”

He answered with another question. “How much do you know about Kirby being a Star Warrior?”

“Virtually everything, as far as I’m aware,” Meta responded. Kirby forcefully nodded his head in agreement. “From his space goddess to the giant hands.”

“Great. Don’t have to explain much, then,” DP sighed. “I formed a fight club, to take down the hands, and… whatever else is coming. If Kirby’s sticking around down here, I figured he should be part of the club, too.”

“Some fight club?” Dedede mused. “Sounds perfect for you, Pinky. When’re y’all meeting?”

DP blinked, not expecting it to be that easy. Guess Kirby’s dads understood that their adoptive son was perfectly capable of handling himself. “...Tomorrow. At 7 pm.”

Dedede nudged Kirby’s shoulders. “Ya wanna go?”

“YEAH!”

“Then we’ve got ourselves a date,” he winked at DP.

“Indeed we do,” Meta echoed.

“...Great.”

DP saw them out of the library-- Dedede carrying Kirby on his shoulders, and Meta carrying their stack of books. The trio was certainly... unexpected, to say the least. Perhaps not really the kind of people he expected Kirby to gravitate to: a slightly rude loudmouth, and a quiet stoic. But they seemed to get along perfectly.

Kirby was happy. That’s all DP could have asked for, all these years later.

\----

September 27th, 2019. Two hundred and seventy-eight days out.

“Alright, guys. Meet Kirby. He’s the newest member of NFC.”

“Hiiii!” Kirby waved.

“Hi!” Everyone waved back, all completely and immediately enamored with the pink ball of energy that Kirby was. He fit right into the group, easygoing as ever. Everyone was especially impressed with his Copy ability; except Ness, who was a bit salty that this pink-haired child was ripping off his signature PK Fire.

After the theatrics, DP beckoned Kirby over to his planning wall, along with Link and Zelda, leaving Akira to teach the others how to properly wield a knife without stabbing themselves on accident. The four of them needed to make a plan.

“So here’s what’s happening,” DP started, patting the top of Kirby’s head. “Kirby here’s on a mission from the space goddess, Rosalina. The two of them apparently have been trying to form their own plan to stop the apocalypse.”

“Just like you guys!” Kirby echoed.

“Yeah. Kirby gets around on his Warp Star, which flies him through space super fast. So my idea here is this: instead of talking to Viridi, which may or may not be a lost cause, Kirby can instead take us to Rosalina.”

Zelda tapped a finger to her chin. “Makes sense. She’s much more likely to help out than your nature goddess, right?”

“Oh, she’ll for sure help,” Kirby added. “My Mama loves outer space. She doesn’t want it to be destroyed. And neither do I!”

“That’s something we all can agree on,” Zelda laughed. “But then, one question: I’d imagine you and DP can survive in space without oxygen, considering how high you can fly up without asphyxiating. But what about the rest of us, ah, humans? We’d die.”

Oh, crap. DP hadn’t really thought of that.

Fortunately, Kirby had an answer. “I can make people breathe in space! Or, uh, Mama can. She just gave me the power to do so, too.”

Kind of like the power of flight, DP noted.

Zelda narrowed her eyes. “Interesting…”

“So, with that out of the way, here’s what I’d say to do,” DP interjected. “I’ll obviously go to space, since I’m the ringleader of this whole operation. Link, you’re coming too.”

Link, who had been zoning out a bit, jerked his head towards DP. “Uh… why me?”

“You’re the sword guy. If anyone could tell you stuff about the sword, it’s Rosalina. She's a goddess, so she’s in on the cosmic plan.”

“Oh,” Link said, staring down at his shoes.

“Just tell your dad you’re sleeping over at my place tomorrow night. We can rendezvous with Rosalina in space then. If that’s alright, Kirby?”

“Yeah, probably, I just gotta telepathy her about it.”

“Where would you meet? In the middle of nowhere?” Zelda asked.

“Nope!” Kirby exclaimed, pointing a finger upwards. “We go to the Comet Observatory!”

The Comet Observatory. Kirby had described it once, long ago, to DP. It roamed through all of space, serving as the home of not just Rosalina and Kirby, but also all the Luma beings that Rosalina watched over. DP had always sort of wanted to go there, just to look out and see all the stars in the sky. See them from a place that wasn’t Skyworld.

Zelda looked off to the side. “...Is it possible that I could come, too? If we’re truly going to be in outer space, I’d  _ love _ to see it.”

“Kirby, you got room for four on your warp star?” DP asked. “I can’t really leave my head planner back down here while I’m out getting information.”

“For sure. I can make it as big as we need!”

“Then it’s a plan,” DP stated, clapping his hands together. “We ride at… uh… five tomorrow? If that works? That seems like a legit enough time to host a fake sleepover.”

“Works for me,” Link shrugged.

“Same here,” Zelda affirmed.

“Alright. Now, get back to work, minions.”

Zelda rolled her eyes. “Yes, Master.”

After everyone else had left, DP and Kirby stood in front of the planning board. DP was, inexplicably, more excited than he had felt in a  _ long  _ time. Sure, Ninten Fight Club was nice, but  _ this _ was his chance to actually have some real firepower on his side.

Perhaps his goal wasn’t so insurmountable, after all.

He glanced down at Kirby, who was twiddling his thumbs passively, and smiled, softly. “It’s kinda surreal that you’re here,” DP remarked.

“I know, right?”

“Figured I’d never see you again.”

Kirby reassuringly patted his arm. “Well, you figured wrong!”

“...How’s your life been?”

“Oh, you know, a lot of the same. Still hanging out with the Lumas! Still killing evil terrors at the edges of the universe,” Kirby smirked. “A Star Warrior’s job is never done.”

“Sounds thrilling,” DP supposed.

“How about you?”

“Hm?”

“How’s  _ your  _ life been?”

“I guess it’s… fine, actually,” he mused, crossing his arms. “Not what I expected, but it’s what I got.”

Kirby smiled up at him. “That’s good!”

He’d come a really long way from the lonely, wild reject he’d been when he and Kirby first met, DP realized-- and it really was surreal to reflect back on how  _ lost  _ he’d felt all the way back then.. Guess this warehouse high-school life is just the result of clawing out your own place in the universe.

He felt Kirby’s soft sweater-arms wrap around his side again. “I missed you,” he mumbled. “I really did.”

“Me too.”

  
  
  
  
  


\--------------------

  
  
  


“I’ll name this one… Sirius! And this one is Dipper, and this one is Aries, and this one is… um… Bluey.”

“...Do you _ really _ plan on naming every single one of these ants?”

“Well, everyone needs a name, right? And the ants aren’t naming themselves.”

“They’re all insignificant, though. You’re never going to see them again. It’s pointless.”

“The ants aren’t pointless! Look at them go, they’re taking my bread crumbs back to their little house to feed each other! They care about each other. That’s not pointless at all.”

“I guess.”

“Yeah, you see? So I have to give them names! That’s what I do for the Lumas, back at home.”

“What do you name them?”

“Well… Sirius. And Dipper. And Aries. And Bluey.”

“Not feeling original today?”

“Those are good names! Good names for good ants.”

“Good ants, huh?”

“They’re cute! Look at them scurrying around. So they’re good.”

“You could look at them that way, I guess.”

...

“Heeeeeeeey,  _ you _ never told me  _ your _ name. Do you have a name?”

“...Yes. But I hate it.”

“Aw, I’m sorry.”

“...It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not! If you hate your name, then just get a new one! Duh!”

“I don’t really need one, though. If I’m all alone out here in the woods.”

“Well, you’re not pointless, so you  _ need _ a name.”

“You don’t think I’m pointless?”

“Of course not! You’re taking care of me! I’d probably be dead right now if it wasn’t for you.”

“...What would you pick?”

“Huh?”

“If you gave me a name, what would you pick?”

“Hm… Maybe like, one of these flowers in this field or something. What’s this blue one called?”

“A cornflower.”

“That would be a dumb name. How about… that big one, over there?”

“A sunflower.”

“That’s also dumb! Do all their names end in -flower?”

“No. We’re sitting on a bunch of  _ clover _ blooms right now. And that’s a  _ rose _ bush over there. And there’s—“

“Yeah, yeah. Are there any purple flowers?”

“...Why purple?”

“Purple! Like your hair.”

“My hair’s not purple, it’s black.”

“A really,  _ really _ dark purple. But it’s still purple!”

“Tch. Whatever you say.”

“Okay, then, tell me about purple flowers!”

“Uh… I guess there’s violets, if you want to be literal… and, um, lavender… wisteria… but that all sounds way too pretentious, you know?”

“Yeah, wisteri-whatever’s kinda complicated for a name.”

“...Does it have to be purple? Or a flower? There’s not as many purple flowers as you seem to think there are.”

“Keep thinking!”

“Fine, fine.”

“...Are you still thinking?”

“Yes!”

“What have you got?”

“I don’t know! Pansies? Irises? Hyacinths--”

“What’s an irises?”

“Oh, it’s an  _ iris _ . Not an irises. It’s a weird plant. Kinda sticks up and has petals flopping all over the place. Doesn’t look like most flowers, really.”

“Do you like them?”

“I guess? I don’t think about them much. Like, I don’t have a personal vendetta against them or anything, if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“How about Iris, then?”

“For a name?”

“Yeah! It’s pretty, and purple. Just like you.”

“...That would be nice.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, Iris.”

“...Okay, Kirby.”

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kirby is babey
> 
> that is all


	14. XIII. Rendezvous in Space

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [space: the final frontier.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EuYNxzSFRk8)
> 
> \----

September 28th, 2019. Two hundred and seventy-seven days out.

5:00 pm, on a Saturday night. Our four astronauts were gathered on the roof of DP’s warehouse.

“Link… what is that.”

“Oh, you know, it’s a backpack with all my overnight stuff in it. And Zelda’s, too. Since we’re gonna be in space all night?”

DP pinched the bridge of his nose. “Kirby, are we gonna have room for this big-ass bag on your star?”

Kirby squinted at Link, who gazed expectantly back at him with a sheepish look on his face. “I… think so,” Kirby mused. “If you put it on your lap!”

“Great,” Link grinned. “I’m not going to space without my pajamas.”

“You’re all weak,” DP grumbled back.

“Would you like to bring something along, DP?” Link offered. “There’s still some room in my bag.”

“...I’ll go get my sweatpants.”

As DP dashed back downstairs to grab some stuff, Zelda turned to Kirby. “So… how does your ‘warp star’ work, exactly?”

“Well, it’s this little guy,” Kirby responded, taking a palm-sized star shaped object out of the pocket of his giant pink sweater. “I can make it bigger and smaller, and then we sit on it and ride around. It’s super fun!”

Kirby held it out, allowing Zelda to hold it and examine it. “Wouldn’t we fall off of it? Like, super easily?” she asked, furrowing her brows in confused worry.

“Not if you hold on!”

“...Okay.”

“I’m back. Link, put these in your bag,” DP grunted, appearing at the top of the stairs to shove a pair of pants and a pad of paper into Link’s arms. “Here’s how this is gonna work: Kirby rides in the front, since he’s driving this thing. Zelda, Link, you guys sit next to each other in the middle. And I’ll ride in the back, because I can fly if I fall off.”

Zelda turned to Kirby. “So, we  _ can _ fall off.”

“And I said, not if you hold on!”

“Can we just go already?” DP whined.

“Okay!” Kirby affirmed, snatching his star out of Zelda’s hands. “WARP STAR!”

He held it out in front of him. In a beam of white light, Kirby’s clothes suddenly changed, a long, pink cloak materializing on his shoulders. The star grew, too, into a vehicle just large enough to seat all four of them. With the procedure complete, Kirby turned to face the others, blue eyes now shimmering with visible stars in them.

Zelda and Link gazed at him, incredulous. “Woah,” was all Link said.

“Get on, guys! We gotta go!”

With minimal frustration, the group shuffled onto the hovering star. Kirby hopped onto the front after helping everyone get situated.

Kirby then jerked around to face his passengers. “Oh, wait. Before I forget,” he started, holding out his hands to Link and Zelda’s chests, a blue light emitting out of his palms. “Now you can breathe in space!”

Zelda put a hand to her collarbone. “...Well. I sure hope this works.”

“Of course it does!” Kirby grinned. “Okay. Everybody, hold on! And don’t try to lean over the side or anything, or you’ll probably fall off. What do they say at those amusement parks?... Keep your hands and feet inside the ride at all times, and make sure to have fun!”

“I had better not die tonight-- WAAAAUGH!!”

Just like that, Kirby’s star lifted off the ground, and began zipping up into the sky. Zelda hollered at the top of her lungs. Link held his eyes closed, afraid of even moving an inch. DP tried to spit out all of Link and Zelda’s hair that was flying into his face.

“Fuck, guys! Put your hair in a bun or something!” DP shouted.

“SORRY!” Link screamed. “GOTTA HOLD ON!”

They ascended faster and faster, towards their peak velocity, before bursting through the sunset cloud cover, and into the blue night sky. Earth became smaller and smaller beneath them.

Up ahead was just… space. Deep, vast, and dark, littered everywhere with specks of stars a million miles away. 

Wow. Still amazing, as it always was.

DP had sort of forgotten what it felt like, to be able to roam through the sky like this. His five minutes of flight got him nowhere near the infinite depths of outer space.

“Everyone okay?” Kirby called over his shoulder.

“Kirby-- this is incredible!” Zelda exclaimed, captured with wonder at the sights around them. “We’re  _ actually _ in space!” 

Link attempted to get his hair tied out of the way, turning around to make sure his elbows weren’t bonking DP in the face. “...You alright, DP?” he asked, noticing his distant, melancholic expression.

DP blinked. “Yeah I just… haven’t been up this high in a while.”

“You haven’t?”

“No.... I missed it, you know?”

Link smiled. “It  _ is _ pretty neat up here.”

“Yeah.”

Perhaps half an hour later, the warp star began to approach a strange structure, floating off in the distance-- the Comet Observatory. Kirby guided the star to a slowing halt, landing it on the glowing runway leading into the front area of the spaceship.

“We’re here!” he announced, hopping off the front of the star. “Hope you enjoyed your flight!”

“Woo!” Zelda breathed, stretching her arms out as she jumped off the star. “Is this the Comet Observatory?”

Kirby grinned, extending a sweeping arm towards everything contained within. “Yup! My home. I hope you like it!”

It was grand, yet cozy, all at the same time. Kirby’s three passengers spent a brief moment just taking it all in.

From the right, a group of colorful star-creatures approached, dogpiling Kirby in hugs. “GUYYYYS!” Kirby called, attempting to grasp them all in his small arms. 

“Kirby’s home!”

“He’s back!”

“And he brought friends!”

So that’s what they looked like. Kirby had described them once, long ago, but that really hadn’t done them enough justice. They really  _ were  _ the cutest little balls of light in the universe. Even DP couldn’t help but burst into a grin when he saw them.

“Guys, these are the Lumas!” Kirby explained, plucking one out of the air with his hands and holding it out to the other three. It waved, eyes cheerful. “Mama takes care of ‘em until they're ready to become stars and stuff. And I watch them, too! Mostly playing with them and stuff, though. I’m not good at being a mom myself, ha…”

Zelda tentatively waved back at the Luma, face breaking out into a childlike grin. “Hi there… I’m Zelda. What’s your name?”

“Lumalee!”

And then a number of them started dogpiling Zelda, too. She fell down on the ground, laughing in surprise.

“That’s Link there,” Kirby continued, pointing to the person in question, who waved shyly. “And that’s Iris! Though, he says his name is DP now, so… yeah.”

“You found Iris?” A number of the Lumas exclaimed.

“Yeah. Or, well, he found me. In a library,” Kirby smiled, rubbing a hand behind his head.

DP blinked. “You were looking for me?”

“Off and on, I guess,” Kirby started. “I promised you I’d take you to space someday, but I had to go back without you. I came back and looked all over Earth, but I never did find you. Until now!”

“Oh,” was all DP said. So Kirby had been out there all that time, for all those years, still thinking about him. It melted his heart. 

“So, what do you think?”

“...It’s really nice here. Thanks for bringing us.” DP grinned.

Suddenly, all the Lumas seemed to turn around, eyes fixed on someone approaching down the corridor. “It’s Mama!”

And there she was-- Rosalina, the Goddess of Space, in her pale blue dress, flowing behind her like the fabric of the cosmos itself. Kirby immediately ran to go give her a hug around the waist. “Hey there, my little star,” she said, bending down to look Kirby in the eyes. “It’s been so long.”

“Way too long!” Kirby echoed. “Six months is way too much!”

Rosalina then stood up, making her way over to her three guests, who stood there in silence, a bit blown away by the divine presence in front of them. “You must be Kirby’s friends,” she greeted. “He told me all about you all last night. Let me guess… You’re Zelda, correct?” 

“Zelda Bosphoramus,” she said, introducing herself with a polite bow. “It’s an honor to be… here, in space.”

Rosalina beamed. “It is quite remarkable up here, is it not? I’m still blown away by it every day I spend out here.” She then turned. “And you must be Link, then.”

“Hey…” Link waved, completely unsure of what to say in the presence of someone who was apparently a god. “Thanks for, uh, letting us come.”

“Of course,” Rosalina nodded. “And… Iris.”

“DP Leandros, actually,” he shrugged sheepishly. “Though, Iris is fine too, if you’re used to that.”

Rosalina gazed at him with curiosity. “Are you truly an angel?”

“In the flesh,” he affirmed, summoning his wings. They were out in space. There was no use hiding them here.

She smiled. “That’s wonderful, really. I didn’t know there were any of you left.”

“Nah. I’m still kicking.”

“Uh, what?” Zelda piped up.

Oh, right. He’d never really explained this to them. Though, he was trying to avoid having to explain anything about his origins to his new friends… “There used to be a bunch of angels, all serving the Goddess of Light, a long time ago. But some of the gods got in a war and they all got killed. Except me, I guess. Though I don’t remember, I was… a child.” It was a partial lie, but whatever. Nobody needed to know.

“The same happened to most of the Star Warriors, like Kirby here,” Rosalina added, patting Kirby on the head. “I suppose you could say they were the equivalent of angels to me. But I sent the rest of them to go live out their lives on their own.”

“Not me!” Kirby interjected. “I’d never leave Mama!”

“So…” Zelda continued, turning to DP, “Do you know this Goddess of Light, then?”

He went a bit pale with alarm. “Uh… not actually. I’ve always been on Earth. Guess she never really found a reason to come and find me,” he lied.

A look of sorrow crossed Rosalina’s face. “Oh… I’m so sorry.”

He shrugged. “Enh. It’s fine. I’ve never known her, so I guess I never really needed her.” That much was true. He had never needed her. She didn’t particularly like him, anyways. He was just an inferior version of someone she liked better.

“Well. You’re always welcome here,” Rosalina offered, gesturing around the Observatory. “Come with me to the Library. We can talk through our plans there, if that’s alright.”

“Sounds good to me,” DP nodded.

The whole entourage followed close behind Rosalina, as she walked down the corridor to the right, and into a humble, brown room off to the side; quite different from the fantastical architecture of the rest of the Observatory. Once inside, Rosalina sat down on a rocking chair, and offered a few cushioned seats for her three guests to sit down on. Kirby sat cross-legged on the floor next to her, and a group of Lumas crowded in, providing a cozy glow as they hovered throughout the room.

“It’s… homey, in here,” Zelda remarked, brushing off her seat before sitting down.

“Reminds me of my old home,” Rosalina smiled. 

“So,” DP began, brushing over sentimentalities, “Plans.”

“Yes, plans,” Rosalina continued. “Kirby told you that we’ve been trying to stop the apocalypse. And, I suppose we have… I just can’t bear to see this whole universe disappear, when it’s so full of life.”

Rosalina probably would have that unique view, DP thought. She travelled throughout all of space. She loved  _ all  _ of its planets, stars, and its inhabitants, and probably knew it better than anyone else. The same couldn’t be said for most other people.

“I’ve tried to correspond with Galeem, but he just ignores me,” Rosalina sighed. “He and Dharkon used to host council meetings with all of us gods, but we stopped doing so a long time ago. And ever since then, the two of them have mostly shut themselves off from any communication with us. My thought has always been that I may be able to convince them to not go through with their plan, but if neither wants to even see me face to face… it may as well be a lost cause.”

She gestured to Link. “My most recent idea has been in finding you, Link. You’re the one with the sword, correct?”

Link looked off to the side. “That’s what I’ve been told… though I haven’t found any magic swords yet.”

“The top of your left hand, Link. That’s the mark.”

Link rolled up his jacket sleeve. “...You mean my birthmark?” he asked, holding up his hand, with a small, brown triangle on the back of it..

“The triangle. You are indeed the one,” Rosalina confirmed.

“See, that’s what I said,” DP grumbled.

A look of nervous realization passed over Link’s face. “Oh.”

“But why were you looking for him?” Zelda interjected.

“You’re integral to the cosmic plan, Link. If you don’t do what Galeem and Dharkon want, there’s nothing they can do to go through with the recreation of the world, outside of convincing you to do so. I thought that I could convince you to join my cause; since you’re so important, perhaps Galeem would listen to you, over myself.”

“That’s why I was on Earth!” Kirby piped up. “Mama couldn’t come, because she had to watch over outer space and the Lumas.”

Rosalina reached down to affectionately pat Kirby on the head again.“And you did a fine job. Thank you so much.”

Link fell silent, after hearing this explanation. The poor guy probably had no idea what to think about this whole mess he had been thrust into. He was just a normal high school kid trying to get by, you know? Leave all the heroics to DP.

“So... “ he continued, attempting to steer the conversation away from Link for a bit, “Do you know how, exactly, the end of the world is supposed to pan out? Nobody’s really told me any of that yet.”

Rosalina nodded. “Yes, I do. All of us gods were informed by letter.”

Great. So Viridi  _ was _ purposefully withholding information from him. Man, screw her.

“Kirby informed me about the Crazy Hands that Dharkon has been sending. They’re supposed to help Link train for his mission, but so far, they seem a bit… uncoordinated, if you haven’t actually found the sword yet.”

“Do they know it’s been us that have been killing them?” Zelda asked.

“I’m not sure. But if they had a problem with it, I’m sure something much stronger would have been sent to wipe you all out.”

That’s a relieving thought. The Crazy Hands were like the kiddie version of what the cosmic army was capable of. The NFC probably couldn’t stand a chance against anything else.

“What happens next-- and actually is starting to happen right now-- everything gets converted into Subspace, to make it easier to break the universe apart, since it will be in a much more chaotic state. Tabuu’s behind that, obviously.”

“Tabuu…” DP squinted. “Who’s that again?”

“The God of Subspace. He’s almost never made an appearance in this realm of existence. He spends all his time locked away in Subspace.” Rosalina shivered. “He’s been known to be… incredibly destructive, if he wants to be. But Galeem and Dharkon just keep him in there.”

Going to Subspace… another point to be thwarted in the plan. “How powerful would you say this Tabuu guy is?” DP asked, head in his hands.

“I’m not sure,” Rosalina sighed.

“Likely not more than Galeem and Dharkon, if they keep him there,” Zelda offered. “But still pretty powerful. If he turns everything into… Subspace. Whatever that is.”

“Basically, a void at the current moment,” Rosalina elaborated. “Whatever gets shunted into it breaks apart, and floats around boundlessly, whether it’s something as simple as my rocking chair, or as complex as the Earth itself. Tabuu sends out Subspace bombs with his army, and they’ll detonate all across the universe, bringing whatever is caught in the explosion into Subspace.”

“So that happens on the 31st?” DP wondered.

“On Earth, yes. Gradually in other places. But once the 31st comes, everything will have been shunted. Then Galeem sends his beams of pure energy into the space, completely obliterating everything. If you weren’t dead by this point, you would certainly be killed by these beams.”

How thrilling. Total annihilation.

“This is where Link comes in-- having spared you, the gods will leave you to fight through the total mess of dead space to reach the sealing point in the center of the universe. Your sword then gathers all this destroyed matter into a singularity. From here, something equivalent to a Big Bang happens, restarting the universe, and letting Galeem and Dharkon do whatever they want to form it beyond its birth.”

Link looked down at his shoes. “And I die, right?”

Rosalina, too, looked down, at her hands. “That is correct. You’ll die in that explosion. Nobody would be able to survive a burst of energy that powerful, not even Galeem and Dharkon themselves.”

A somber mood filled the room. Even the Lumas could sense the crushing inevitability of fate hanging over everyone’s heads.

...Enough of this defeatist bullshit. DP stood up. “But none of that’s going to happen. Link may be the scapegoat of the gods, but that doesn’t mean he has to do what they tell him to. This whole operation relies on  _ you  _ finishing it off, so they’re helpless without you. Right?”

“Maybe…” Link sighed. “I don’t really know.”

“Putting all that aside,” Zelda interjected, “Perhaps we can stop this nonsense before it all starts. If Link wanted to talk to Galeem and Dharkon, where would he go?”

“The World of Light!” Kirby answered, jumping off of the floor. “Some magic dimension that they live in. But I've never been….”

Rosalina nodded. “Yes, they don’t tend to let others in very often. But if you’d like, I could give you a ride to the entrance, as long as Kirby can get you up here to the Comet Observatory.”

Oh. Maybe they really  _ wouldn’t _ have to solve this problem with violence. That was good, considering that DP didn’t really have faith in his team’s ability to kill gods. All they’d need to do was come up with some sort of compelling argument to pose to Galeem. DP wasn’t really one for words-- he liked to just  _ do _ things-- but surely, the NFC could think of something to say together.

Zelda smirked. “I think we could come up with a pretty convincing case for our universe. What do you all think?”

“Probably…” Link mumbled. DP just nodded, arms crossed.

“It would be a start,” Rosalina returned, looking at the three of them with pensiveness. “But Galeem probably won’t be convinced with your human arguments. He’s a supreme god. He’s got no sense of mortality, or any attachment to the world he’s about to destroy, really.”

A fair point. That was the kicker with all these gods: they just couldn’t find it within themselves to care for anyone else. “We’ll just have to get creative, then,” DP determined.

The room was in agreement. It was decided-- the Earthlings would return home, brainstorm a case for Galeem, and then return to the Comet Observatory, alongside the rest of the Ninten Fight Club. From there, they’d see if Galeem would let them into the World of Light.

...But if it didn't happen, DP had another plan that he had begun to formulate in his mind. Something a bit more violent, related to Subspace. Something he didn’t necessarily think Rosalina would approve of. The NFC still needed her strength, if things went really south.

\----

After their briefing, the group shuffled back out of the Library. “I suppose you all want to stay the night here?” Rosalina offered. “I don’t… normally have space for guests, but you could sleep out here with the couches, or on the green, or in the terrace. I think I’ve got some extra blankets and pillows in my bedroom.”

“How about on the grass? I’d love to sleep under the stars,” Zelda said, gazing up at the sky. “It’ll be like camping, won’t it, Link?”

Link looked off towards the green, eyes distant. “Yeah…”

He was obviously shaken up about the rundown Rosalina had just given. DP wanted to say some comforting words, but remained silent. He wasn’t great at doing that. Link didn’t need his crooked sympathy.

Rosalina waved off down the corridor. “Kirby, could you go fetch some blankets and things?”

“Sure!” Kirby saluted.

“Can I come, too?” Zelda asked. “I’m curious to see more of this Observatory.”

“Oh, yeah! I can give you a tour! It’s super cool, you’ll love it!” Grabbing her by the wrist, he yanked her away.

“Link, join us! It’ll be amazing!”

“Uh, sure,” Link shouted after them. He quickly handed his bag to DP, looking down. “I guess I’ll be back. Hold onto this. Make sure it doesn’t fall off the edge or something.”

“I’ll make sure to launch it into the infinite void of space for you,” DP called, watching him run off to catch up with the other two.

Now it was just him and Rosalina. He could tell she was looking at him, but he didn’t meet her gaze. As much as he liked to insist that a god-status meant nothing to him, he was still… nervous, just being around her. Not in a fearful way, more in a sense of reverent respect.

“Will you join them?” she said, putting a delicate hand on his shoulder.

“...Nah. I’ve had enough excitement for one day.”

He sat down on the ledge of the Observatory. Down below was nothing but more outer space. It was kind of like Skyworld, wasn’t it? Nothing below him there but sky and clouds.

But space felt more comfortable. It was solitary. No one around, except for the close-knit family of the Comet Observatory.

He felt Rosalina sit down beside him, letting her legs swing back and forth over the depths below.

“It’s marvellous, isn’t it? Almost as if I can see everything in the world,” she sighed. “You’d never get this kind of view back down on Earth.”

“Tell me about it,” DP grinned. “Not even Skyworld looks this good.”

Before DP could realize what he had admitted, Rosalina raised an eyebrow. “I thought you said you’d always lived on Earth,” she winked, smiling slyly.

“I… lied.” 

“What for?”

If it was on his mind, he may as well talk about it. He’d barely known Rosalina for more than a night. But something about her comforting, motherly presence caused all the walls he normally kept constructed to fall. “Well, I’m not really the  _ last _ angel. There’s still one more. He’s still out there, serving Palutena.” He cringed, not exactly wanting to elaborate on the next part. “I was supposed to be his ‘evil clone,’ but that, uh, didn’t really work out.”

“Hm,” was all Rosalina said.

“But I was kind of unwanted up there in Skyworld. So I left. Didn’t want to live in someone else’s shadow for the rest of my life.”

“And it’s something you’d rather forget about?”

DP sighed, resting his head in his hands. “Well, I try to be my own person. I, uh, shift around personas a lot, when I feel like it. Link and Zelda don’t know any of this, obviously. I don’t want them to, because... being some angel clone isn’t who I am anymore.”

“You don’t have to tell them anything you don’t want them to know,” Rosalina reassured. “Like you said, it’s not who you are.”

“I’ve had a lot of time to figure that out,” he smiled, a bit forlorn.

“I’m glad.”

A shooting star zipped by, far off in the distance. Perhaps it was light-years away from their vantage point. “Now that I’m out here, I kind of… miss Skyworld. Being above everything else. I sort of trapped myself on Earth, you know? Since I can’t fly for very long on my own.”

Rosalina gazed off into the horizon for a moment, a wistful look on her face.

“Can I tell you a story?”

“Sure?”

She pondered for a moment, closing her eyes before beginning. “A very long time ago-- long before you even existed-- I used to be a regular human myself. Would you believe that?”

“So… you lived on Earth?”

“Indeed. And I loved the place. Loved all of its green hills, and its sprawling forests, and its sunset skies, and especially the people that lived on it. But when my mother died, I felt I’d never experience any of that joy again.”

She looked up. “One night, at the peak of my lamenting, a bright white Luma appeared to me; a lost little one, looking for its own Mama. I didn’t know what to do, but I was lonely beyond belief, and  _ knew  _ in that moment I had to help it find her; so we left Earth together, in a cobbled-together little spaceship.” She laughed, reminded of its charm. “We arrived here, on the Comet Observatory.”

“I eventually discovered that this Luma’s Mama was the former Goddess of Space, and soon, I chose to take her mantle, inheriting the remnants of her power that was left on the Observatory. And I’ve lived here ever since, watching over the cosmos, and caring for the Lumas.”

“And you left Earth forever,” DP concluded.

“It still holds a dear place in my heart, of course. All of it’s a part of me-- the hills, the trees, the memories of my mother. That’s why I want to save it. But I know that, no matter how much I miss it, my life is out here now, and I’m happier with my family than I ever was on Earth.”

She folded her hands in her lap. “And the same could be said for you, DP. Though you may miss your former home, or whatever it is you’ve had to leave behind, you’re much happier now, living your life as you choose.”

In his head, he knew it was true. But it was nice to hear it affirmed from someone else, instead of having to justify it to himself over and over again. 

Kirby, Link and Zelda, Akira, Ness, and Lucas, and of course, Meggy. His friends on Earth. The people that actually mattered to him. Not whoever was left in Skyworld, not whoever was left in the Forces of Nature, none of them.

“That’s a good story,” DP exhaled, smiling to himself. “A really good one.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mario Galaxy lives in my brain rent-free.


	15. XIV. Meggy's McMansion Hellscape

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> top 10 movies to question your sexuality to
> 
> \----

**Fri, Oct 4, 9:12 am**

**inkl1ing** : sup ma broskis.

**inkl1ing** : come to my house 2night @ 7

**inkl1ing** : my parents r out at fancy dinner party for corporate assholes so we have the place 2 ourselves

**inkl1ing** : theres gonna b takeout (lookin at u Ness)

**inkl1ing** : and therell be movies

**inkl1ing** : itll be fun 8) so come on down 8)

**handsoffmykakariko** : shouldnt you be in class right now

**inkl1ing** : aw man here comes the fun police

**inkl1ing** : and what about urself, mr wilden

**handsoffmykakariko** : …

**handsoffmykakariko** : its my free period.

**inkl1ing** : well its my art period and my teacher cant tell im texting back here

**inkl1ing** : hidden in the easel forest

**inkl1ing** : im like the easel gremlin or smthn

**inkl1ing** : DPs here 2 but its sad boi hours so hes ignoring us

**ratchorus** : it is not ‘sad boi hours.’

**ratchorus** : some of us are trying to work on our still life paintings.

**inkl1ing** : ya ya w/e man

**inkl1ing** : regardless. Come 2 my house plz!

**inkl1ing** : see u all tonight 8)

\----

Link had left his dad alone, at home, for the past three Fridays in a row, or so. And here he was, about to do it again.

Did he care? In a vacuum, not really. If his father actually liked him, it was definitely in a... reserved way. Link could hardly stand to sit around in his imposing presence all night, even if the two of them were just watching a movie together or something.

But when he got on the phone to alert his father to his whereabouts that night, this is what he said:

“You sure do hang out with these kids a lot, Link. Who, exactly, are they?”

Really, Link should have had no reason to be afraid of telling his father who they were. But Link knew he wouldn’t like them-- or the mythically rebellious cause that brought them all together. His father had already made it clear in the past that he wasn’t very fond of DP.

“He needs to calm down,” he had said, scoffing a bit. “That kid should be knocked off his high horse. He thinks he understands the world, but at his age, that’s just not possible.”

If he had _ that  _ to say about DP, then surely, he wouldn’t like Meggy, either; she was just as rebellious, but ten times crazier. Akira was probably a no-go too, as the leader of a group of literal vigilantes; as much good as The Phantom Thieves supposedly did, their operation was still illegal. Ness and Lucas were… freshmen. His father would probably tell him to grow up and find some peers or something.

Link grimaced for a moment, silent on his side of the phone. 

“They’re… friends from school,” he started hesitantly. “Zelda’s going to be there, too.” Hopefully mentioning her-- basically the representation of his father’s ideal student-- would satisfy his curiosity.

“Will I ever get to  _ meet _ these friends?”

“Look, Father, do I  _ really _ need to tell you every single detail about my life?”

And Link could just tell, right after saying that, that his father’s eyes must be narrowing on the other side of the phone.

Agh, no, no… as soon as the words were out, he wanted to take them back. This isn’t what he needed right now: a confrontation with his father. “Though, um, I’d understand if…” Link stuttered, attempting to backpedal, but trailing off instead as he heard him sigh through the other side of the phone.

“I understand you want your privacy, but I have a right to be concerned if you’re being so secretive about these people.”

Which was, unfortunately, a totally logical conclusion. He didn’t want his father thinking he was... out getting laid or blazing weed all the time. “I told you, Zelda’s there…”

“And who else?”

“...DP. And some of his friends,” Link slowly admitted, wanting to avoid any more conflict.

“Hm,” his father hummed. “Alright, then.”

And they hung up, after a strained goodbye.

There was the axe, right at the end. The fatherly condemnation. Link could  _ feel _ the disapproval leaking out of the phone. Now his father would probably ruminate all night, alone, in his apartment, slowly deciding to condemn the entirety of Link’s new friend group.

Often, it felt like he couldn’t do  _ anything  _ without coming under that man’s scrutiny. And as much as he tried to be good and avoid it, it was an exasperating, losing battle. He couldn’t keep lying forever; sooner or later his father would find out about the NFC, or DP’s strange existence, or the end of the world, or even the littler things, like Meggy’s ‘bad-influence’ demeanor, or culinary school or, heck, even Pit?--

Nope, nope, take those feelings and crush them.

6:16 pm. He flopped over on the couch, groaning loudly into a pillow.

\----

Link had to do a double-take when he drove up to Meggy’s house. Or rather, the driveway obscured by a row of intricately-trimmed trees leading up to her house. If you could even call it a house; if Pit’s home was a mcmansion, then Meggy’s could only be described as mcmansion  _ hell _ .

Sprawling and white, it sat atop a hill, surrounded by a lawn mowed so perfectly you could see the exact grid the mower had plowed through it.

He parked his motorcycle in the giant, circular driveway, and spent a few moments just staring up at the house.

...Who _ lived  _ like this?

“HEY! LINK!”

Startled, Link jerked his head around. Meggy was sticking her head out the massive double-doors of the front entrance. “You just gonna keep marvelling at my parents’ wealth, or are you gonna come in?”

“Ah… sorry,” he cringed. “Coming in now.”

Meggy led him through an intricately-designed front foyer, past a circular staircase, and into the kitchen, where everyone else was gathered. The giant granite island in the middle of it was littered with various snacks and things the others had brought, as well as a few cardboard boxes full of takeout from Smash Pizza.

“Link’s here!” Lucas cheered, hopping off of the barstool that he had pulled over to the island. “Now we can actually have some of this pizza.” Kirby (who had been dropped off by Dedede and Meta, using this hangout as an excuse to go out on a date together) hoisted himself up on the island, reaching out to the box.

Meggy smacked his hand away. “Not so fast! We’re still waiting for Olive, remember?”

Olive?

“They said they'd be here, like, five minutes ago, but they’re late,” Meggy groaned, pulling out her phone and presumably sending the mysterious Olive another angry text.

Link leaned over to DP, who was dangling his legs over the side of the island. “Who’s Olive?” he whispered.

“Newest recruit on our team, per Meggy’s invitation. They’re from out of town, though, so don’t expect to see them at all our meetings.”

“Huh. Neat,” he shrugged, still mostly clueless.

A few minutes of watching Meggy pace around later, the doorbell rang. “THEY’RE HERE!” she exclaimed, rushing down the hall to the front door to let them in; a moment later, she marched back into the kitchen, dragging a tall person with lime-green dreadlocks in a ponytail by the hand.

“Guys,” Meggy started, “Meet Olive. We’re daaaating!” she declared, squeezing their hand and drawing them right to her side.

“Hey,” Olive greeted, waving their other hand, voice cool and nonchalant.

Oh wow. They seemed… very cool, Link reflected. But in the chill, laid-back kind of way.

Everyone called back “hey,” or “hello,” or some other variation of greeting.

Ness squinted at the two. “Wait a minute, Meggy… I thought you and  _ DP  _ were dating.”

DP went red. Meggy keeled over, cackling. “No, you idiot! I’d never date him! He’s too moody for someone like me,” she explained, pointing a finger directly at the angel’s confused face. “Plus, DP’s aro as  _ fuck _ . He’d never date anyone!”

“Love is bullshit,” DP mumbled, rolling his eyes.

“Though, we all know, if DP had to date anyone, he’d pick me,” Meggy finished, smirking at her disgruntled friend.

“We’ve been over this. If I  _ had  _ to date anyone, it would be Marth Lowell. The theater kid. Even _ I  _ can admit he’s objectively hot. Not you, Meggy. Never you.”

Meggy stuck her tongue out at him. “Whatever! As I was saying, this is Olive, they’re my date, and now they’re part of NFC’s special reserves.”

“I live, like, an hour from here,” Olive explained, jerking a thumb towards the door. “Can’t spend  _ all  _ my cash on gas for the trip over.”

Zelda chuckled, leaning over the island. “Hey, the more, the merrier. It's nice to meet you!”

“Ditto on that,” Lucas affirmed.

“Let me introduce you to everyone super fast,” Meggy said, putting a hand on Olive’s shoulder. “That’s Zelda, the smart one, Ness, the stupid one--” 

“Uh, WHAT!”

“--Lucas, the nice one, Akira, the cool one, Kirby, who’s a literal alien, and then… Link.”

“Hey,” Olive smiled, looking Link in the face.

“Heya,” he smiled back, a bit shyly.

“And, then, you already know DP,” Meggy finished. “In all his emo glory.”

Something about this whole exchange between the group felt… comfortable? Relieving? Link wasn’t really sure himself. But Olive seemed like a really cool (there it is again!) person; he was glad the rest of the group seemed to think so, too.

“Can we eat now?” Kirby whined.

“Yes, Kirby, you may eat now.”

“Yay!”

And the feast was on. Everyone ate around the island. It was a total mess by the time they were done: chips on the floor, empty bags left to sit in every corner imaginable. But none of them cared. It was a good time with friends.

Though he was sitting on the floor, talking with Zelda, Link couldn’t help but notice Meggy and Olive, cuddled on the floor together, feeding each other Cool Ranch Doritos out of a giant bag.

It was adorable. 

He thought of his father.

...He couldn’t have what they had.

The sweet turned bitter-- nope, nope, it didn’t, take those feelings and crush them. Bitter? What are you talking about?

“Link, are you alright?” Zelda asked, noticing his sudden, troubled expression.

“Yeah, I’m good,” he lied, looking up and feigning a smile. “I just kind of have a headache.”

Damn, he actually kind of  _ did _ have a headache, now that he was thinking about it.

Zelda reached into her messenger bag. “You need some Tylenol? I have some in here.”

“Nah, it’s fine.”

She squinted sideways at him. “...If you say so. But have some water. It’ll help.”

He downed an entire water bottle in two minutes. It didn’t really do him any good.

\----

Later in the evening, Meggy led the entourage down into her basement, and into her family’s mini movie theater, in a side room. Attached to the wall was a large screen; in front of it were various chairs on a set of two steps, and a projector in the very back.

“Damn,” Akira commented. “You’ve got a pretty sweet pad here.”

“Hey, I’ll be the first to admit that my family is disgustingly wealthy,” Meggy joked, opening a cabinet filled with movies underneath the screen. “A home theater? I’d never need that.”

Ness rolled his eyes. “I wouldn’t whine about a literal theater in my house.”

“Oh, I’d never whine about it. This place is sick! Now, y’all get down here and pick a movie while I get the projector set up.”

They decided on The Bee Movie, after a short period of intense debate. Some people just can’t let a meme go.

Link didn’t really care. His head was still pounding a bit, and he wanted to go to bed. But he wasn’t about to ditch his friends for… seeing his father at home. That was the  _ last  _ thing he felt like doing at the current moment.

The Bee Movie was kind of loud. Kirby was bouncing around in Zelda’s lap, commenting on what was happening in the movie every other second. Ness and Akira were in the middle of a drinking game (they say bee, take a shot of gatorade). Lucas and DP were having an intense conversation about the ethics of bee society. Meggy and Olive were lounging all over each other in ridiculous positions.

He needed to get somewhere a bit quieter.

Standing out of his seat, Link retreated to the back wall, by the projector. At least it was a little better back here.

Meggy’s all-seeing eye, however, noticed him leave. “You alright?” she called, twisting around in her seat.

“Huh-- Oh? Yeah, I’m… fine,” he said, half-heartedly.

She narrowed her eyes. “No, you’re not.” Before Link could object, Meggy had vaulted over her chair, and went to join Link by the back wall. “What’s up?”

Link rested his head on his knees. “It’s… nothing, don’t worry about it.” Meggy was having a good time. She didn’t need to try and console him. Besides, it’s not like anything was  _ wrong _ , necessarily, he was just frustrated for no reason.

“Well, too bad. I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong. You were fine earlier, and now you’re not.”

Link furrowed his brows. Looks like Meggy was going to put the foot down here.

“Just vent, dude. You’ll feel better,” she shrugged.

Really? She was just going to let him talk?

He sighed, slumping. What was the first thing that came to mind... “I guess... it’s my father, amongst other things. But it’s kind of always him, you know? I just want to be free to hang out with you guys, but he’s always breathing down my neck. He asked me on the phone who you guys were and I didn’t tell him… he already doesn’t like DP, so I don’t think he’d like you guys, either.”

“We’re an eccentric crew,” Meggy grinned.

“I don’t want him to think even more poorly of me than he already does,” he continued. “But I already do so much for his approval. I’m going to Ninten, I’m going to go to some good college, I  _ try _ to be a good kid…”

“But if you tried to be yourself around him, he wouldn’t like that?” 

Huh. Seems like Meggy was more perceptive than she let on. “Yeah, I guess,” he admitted, shrugging defeatedly. “I’d like to imagine I’m pretty inoffensive, but maybe not to him.”

“Olive, get over here,” Meggy called, beckoning them over with a wave of her hand. While they got situated on the other side of Link, she began. “Let me tell you a little bit about myself. My edgy backstory, if you will.”

“It’s not that edgy,” Olive inserted.

“Shut up, Broccoli Head,” Meggy snapped, flicking their shoulder. “ _ Anyways _ , I wasn’t always the cool, confident, awesome art friend that you all know and love today. I used to be this shrimpy loser, back in middle school. Good little Megan Cephalo, always listening to her parents, doing exactly what was expected of her. I was so shy all the time, you know? Trying my hardest to avoid the judgement of others, that I totally repressed what I wanted to be. It was _ depressing! _ It was sad girl hours, twenty-four-seven!”

“And then she met me,” Olive bragged. “It all got better from there.”

“Yeah. We met in eighth grade. They liked my art, I liked their hair. We hit it off immediately! Olive never really had any expectations for me-- they just wanted me to do whatever the hell I wanted. And that’s what I did, obviously. I joined their secret paintball group, vandalized alleyways with them, let them dye my hair, and just generally started being the crazy artist that's lived in my soul this whole time.”

“That’s… great, for you,” Link sighed. Yeah, sure, it was great that Meggy had that chance. But he really didn’t.

“And here’s the kicker-- you know what happened with my parents?”

“What?”

Meggy grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “They freakin’  _ hate _ me now! Every day, they’re like, ‘Ugh, Megan, you’re such a delinquent. You need to get your life back on track. Stop hanging out with those… thugs!’” she mocked, mimicking her parents’ uppity tone of voice. “But man, it’s my life, not theirs. I’m done letting my parents rain on my parade.”

“You should see them around me,” Olive chimed in, eager to get a dig in on Meggy’s parents. “You can practically see it in their eyes: ‘My daughter? Dating one of those transgenders? Blasphemy!’ But then they always try to hold the comments in, to at least  _ seem _ polite. It's always fun trying to see which one of us can piss ‘em off the most.”

“And you get away with this? No consequences?” Link asked, unsure.

“Tch. I mean, how do you think I got my license revoked?”

“...Reckless driving?”

“Oh. Well, yeah. Reckless driving, and my rebellious attitude. They said, ‘Away with it! Not until you see the error of your ways!’” Meggy declared, laughing out loud.

“KEEP IT DOWN! I’M TRYING TO TELL LUCAS ABOUT THE FUNDAMENTAL FLAWS IN BARRY B.’S MODE OF THINKING!”

“SORRY, DP!” Meggy chuckled, returning to her calmer demeanor. “I guess, in a nutshell, all I’m saying is that you’re gonna have to disappoint your dad a bit on the way to getting what you want. And you’ll have to learn how to accept that. Even if it sucks!”

Hm. Easier said than done, that’s for sure. Link wasn’t confident like Meggy was, and plus, he sure didn’t have some cool partner like Olive to help him take all the crap. He couldn’t handle the heat of judgement at all-- especially from someone he was still legally a dependent of. “But… my father’s taken care of me my whole life,” he tried to argue. “Don’t I owe him  _ something? _ ”

“Hey. It’s not real care if he tramples over your every wish,” she snapped back. “Yeah, parents have wisdom sometimes, but for real--“ she leaned over, staring him right in the eyes. “What do  _ you _ want, Link? Have you thought about this?”

He--

Um...

“I don’t really know,” he exhaled.

“Oh, come on, that’s super lame,” Meggy objected, adjusting her glasses with a flourish. “Think about it for real!”

“Uh…” he began, pondering. “I guess I’d really like to go to culinary school. But my father says--”

Meggy waved a hand in his face. “We don’t care about him right now. What else?”

“I like hanging out here, so I’d say I want to be friends with you all.”

“Good. Keep going.”

Well. There was one other thing. But, nope, nope, he was still trying to crush those feelings.

Disregarding his father, though? 

He’d never really admitted it to himself, let alone to anyone else. But something about Meggy and Olive made him forget about any hesitation he might have had about mentioning it. “There’s this guy I know, and…” he began, slumping further into the wall, “And I really like him, but that’s the problem… I sort of get this way around him, and now I can’t tell if I’m, like, in  _ love  _ with him, or if we’re instead really good friends or something…”

“Yeah?” Meggy encouraged, a knowing look in her eye. “Anything else to say about that?”

“You guys are probably gonna think I’m stupid for even thinking this is a problem,” Link laughed uncomfortably, “but, you know, he’s, well, a  _ boy,  _ and that makes everything confusing… so I just don’t know.” He glanced to Olive, then back to Meggy, blushing awkwardly under their gazes. “But, this isn’t really relevant, right? I’m not really sure why I’m telling you… all this...” 

Meggy grinned. “It's called, ‘finding out some of your friends aren’t actually straight, just like you.’”

Uh.

“...Am  _ I  _ not straight?”

“Pretty sure a guy falling in love with another guy is pretty un-straight,” Olive offered. “So yeah.”

“Oh.” 

Huh.

He’d never thought about it like that before. 

Ah, geez.

But that was hardly enough to make him sure of anything. “How do I know if I’m actually in love, though?” he pressed, brow furrowed in confusion.

They shrugged. “Beats me. It’s different for everyone.”

“Buuuuut, it’s good you can admit how you actually feel about this guy out loud. That’s step one to self-acceptance. Check!” Meggy interjected, pumping a fist victoriously.

Link smiled crookedly. “Great.” 

How everyone else would feel about it, though, was a different matter.

“You know, Link, do you ever talk to anyone about this stuff?”

Ha. No. 

“Sometimes… mostly just to Zelda, though. Her dad’s worse than mine, probably. But now she’s stressed all the time with school, so I try not to bother her with the same crap as always. And then sometimes I’ll try to talk to DP, but he’s a three thousand year old angel with no parents, so I’m not really sure he’d understand any of this… angsty teen stuff.”

“Hm,” Meggy mused. “Tell me. Do you feel better right now, than, say, fifteen minutes ago, when you were sitting here alone?”

Link thought. “I, uh-- yes. Yes, I do.”

“Then go talk to someone when you feel bad, dummy! There’s no use in sitting on your feelings until you explode,” she concluded, crossing her arms to punctuate her point. “You can always,  _ always  _ talk to me about this stuff. Even if it's in the middle of the night!”

“You know, I am kind of an emotional idiot,” Link admitted, laughing softly.

“Hey, that’s okay. Like I said, step one. You made it this far! That’s good.”

“Don’t worry about what others think,” Olive echoed. “Just take it in stride. Like me.”

“Yeah, man. Screw your dad. Do what you want! Go apply to cooking school or something.”

Link glanced off at the movie screen, a small smile on his face. “I’ll try.”

It would be a long time before Link stopped beating himself up over his feelings. But it was a comfort to know that, at the very least, his friends didn’t care about how he felt-- Meggy and Olive’s words stuck in his mind for the rest of the night, filling him with an unfamiliar, pleasant sense of security, for once in his life. 

And the NFC seemed to be a little bit like him, too. Kindred spirits, if you will.

Was this what having a circle of friends felt like? If so, it felt  _ amazing _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope it's pretty obvious that Olive is the green Inkling alt costume from smash ultimate. If not... well, now you know. :P


	16. XV. Parlor Talks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> floor ice cream gives you health...
> 
> \----

October 8th, 2019. Two hundred and sixty-seven days out.

By some miracle, it was a lazy Tuesday afternoon for both Link and Zelda, who recently hadn’t really found the time to catch up with one another. Sure, they saw each other during calculus and at NFC meetings, but that hardly counted when they were either engrossed in complex calculations or trying to punch each other in the face. But today, neither of them were busy, so they decided to seize their spare time and walk over to Float Islands Parlor, a cute little ice cream shop in town that they tended to frequent. 

Zelda always ordered a strawberry milkshake with whipped cream, chocolate sauce, rainbow sprinkles, and one of those fake cherries on the top, thank you very much.

Link liked to get that stupid multicolored vanilla ice cream that makes you poop out blue for the next couple of days.

They sat at their usual table in the back of the shop, right by the door to the bathroom. Looking out through the window to the side revealed the semi-busy sidewalks right outside. It was a nice autumn day, Link remarked to himself, watching a few fallen leaves gently swirl about through the wind on the pavement. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t relieved to finally catch up with her; she was his best friend, after all, and he’d missed having someone familiar to whine about the usual woes of school life with. He had been spending a lot of time with a lot of people, and none of them were Zelda. Hopefully, she wasn’t mad about that? He’d hate for her to be mad at him.

“So. How’s life?” Zelda started, taking a massive sip of her milkshake.

“Oh, it’s fine,” he shrugged.

She snorted. “Surely, it’s not  _ that  _ normal? With all the crazy world-ending stuff?”

“I thought you didn’t believe any of that?”

“Please. We got taken to space on a flying star by a magical space warrior and an angel. How could I not?”

“Eh, that’s fair.”

Zelda leaned back in her chair, exhaling deeply. “It’s so strange, isn’t it? It’s like we’re living in some fantasy novel, but everything else still feels pretty normal. Like, one day, I’m in space, and the next, we’re watching that awful movie about the bees at Meggy’s place. But it’s not scary, it’s just… fascinating.”

Well, that’s one way of putting it, Link supposed. He might’ve gone with ‘existentially unsettling’ over ‘fascinating,’ but Zelda tended to have a bit of a morbid curiosity.

“And, then, there’s so much else to think about, too,” she continued. “Like college. My applications are almost finished, they’re all due by the end of the month. How’s that going for you?”

“Fine,” he responded vaguely, which was code for, ‘I’ve hardly even started, even though I probably should.’

“Still hunting for scholarships?”

“I guess.”

“It’s a lot to think about,” Zelda agreed. “I don’t blame you for procrastinating.”

“Hey, I never said I was--”

“I know how you are, dummy! Don’t even try to fool me.”

“Motivation’s hard,” Link groaned, poking at his cup of ice cream with his spoon. “I still don’t even know where I want to go.”

“Whatever happened to cooking school? I guess you gave up on that?”

Well, it certainly was where he wanted to go, but like  _ that  _ was ever going to happen. Honestly, he’d given up at this point. “That was kind of a pipe dream… going to a four year’s probably smarter, anyways.”

“Ah.”

She took another loud sip of her milkshake.

“But other than that, how are things? Have you been  _ feeling  _ okay?”

How had he been feeling…? Strange, to say the least. The world was probably going to end soon, but he had a group of friends for the first time. School was stressful, college was stressful, his dad was annoying, he kept getting random headaches for no reason, and Pit was there in the middle of it all, making him reconsider some things he’d never thought much of before. But even compared to how he felt at the start of the school year?

“I guess I’m okay, all things considered,” Link finally said, after a moment of thought. “Life is kinda weird.”

“Tell me about it,” Zelda chuckled.

A breeze of wind rustled through the trees outside as the two of them fell into comfortable silence.

“So, who’s that guy you’re always hanging out with?”

“W-what?” Link sputtered.

“Pit whatever-his-name-is? That new kid? What’s his deal?”

“He’s… a friend of mine,” he started, suddenly feeling self-conscious. “I helped him with his homework one day and then we started hanging out.”

She beamed. “That’s cool. You’re making friends!”

“Hooray,” he joked, with biting sarcasm. “I’ve met the bare minimum for having social skills.”

“Oh, don’t be so hard on yourself--”

“Yeah, I know, I know. Not everybody’s an extrovert, it’s okay to take things slow.”

Zelda rolled her eyes. “Glad to see my advice has really struck a chord with you,” she smirked. “But in all seriousness… I’m glad you’re at least doing okay.”

And she was right, he reflected. It was sort of sheer coincidence that he’d met Pit and joined the NFC around the same time, but now that he knew all these people, things were finally starting to look up for him. It was a shaky kind of looking up-- yes, the apocalypse was apparently on the horizon, as hard as it was to comprehend that-- but life had been rough for a while. Link would take any scrap of relief he could get at this point.

“Who would’ve thought it’d take the end of the world for  _ that  _ to happen?” Link chuckled, finishing off the remnants of his ice cream cone.

Zelda grinned back, sudden determination in her eyes. “Well, it’s not the end, right? We’re going to stop it.”

“Oh, we are?”

“DP may be a madman, but I’ve got faith that we’re going to do  _ something _ .”

Yeah… something sounded nice.

\----

Autumn had certainly come about by this time in our little suburb, and Link wasn’t the only one who had noticed-- the temperature had fallen to crisp coolness, and the leaves on all the trees were just beginning to change into their typical fall hues. It was too perfect outside to not seize the evening. Pit and Palutena decided to capitalize on the weather, going out to eat on the upper deck of the Roost Cafe.

Recently, the two of them found themselves going out on the town together. Why, Pit wasn’t quite sure. They’d had all the time in the world to do so before, but only just now started making a habit of it… probably because they spent most of their time these days around the mortals, he supposed. It just felt less weird now.

Whatever. Pit always enjoyed their outings. He often liked to imagine that they were mother and son, two completely normal people going about their completely normal lives. They’d talk about the most menial things, like:

“How was rehearsal today?”

“Oh, it was… interesting. Reyn tripped on a power chord and toppled over Shulk’s sound board. He kind of flipped out. I tried to help him, but… I don’t really know anything about sound boards. It’s just a complicated mess of switches and plugs.”

Or maybe:

“Did you ever get around to washing my clothes while I was at school?”

“Aha, nope. Actually, there’s a giant bin with both of our stuff in it that you can start yourself when we get back home!”

“Yay…”

Whenever they went out, Palutena had to disguise herself a bit to prevent being recognized as the mysteriously famous Teyna Halloway. Though her godly powers allowed her to change her form at will, she always loved to resort to the iconic sunglasses-and-sunhat look that people often wore to disguise in the movies. Pit found it sort of funny: she had  _ two  _ double lives she was trying not to be recognized for. One was enough for him.

After dinner, the two of them decided to stroll around town a bit, since the evening air was still so nice.

Fall had always been his favorite season. Though he wasn’t usually bothered by extreme temperatures, winter was far too cold and gray, and the summer sun could be unpleasantly blazing. And then spring was when… Viridi usually came out of the woodwork. Yeah, she could be fun, but she was also kind of a massive jerk, when she wanted to be. Fall was always just the two of them-- him, and Lady Palutena, his favorite person in the world. Just the way he liked things to be.

...It was also the last fall he’d ever see.

Well, no. Don’t think of it like that. Maybe there would be fall in the new universe. Or maybe there’d be some new season he’d never experienced before. Or would there even be seasons? If they were caused by planets rotating around stars, who’d know if there would even be planets in the future? Maybe they’d be living on a giant flat surface that stretched from one end of the world to another. Or maybe they’d be floating in the middle of nothing--

“Want to get some ice cream?”

“What?”

“We’re right next to Float Islands Parlor,” Palutena said, pointing towards the very same shop that Link and Zelda had visited earlier in the day. “I’m feeling dessert tonight. How about you?”

“Uh… yeah!” Pit shrugged, attempting to dispel the melancholic what-ifs from his mind.

It usually wasn’t that busy inside the small parlor, and tonight was no different. Customers passed in and out, grabbing their ice cream and walking away to enjoy it out in the streets.

Palutena always ordered a single scoop of vanilla ice cream, in a cup. 

Pit didn’t have a usual. He had made it his goal to try every possible combination of flavors. Probably mathematically impossible, but he could try, given enough time.

The two of them had tried a lot of ice cream in their lives; Float Islands Parlor truly had some of the best, in their opinion.

There was only one other group in the store: a mother, a father, and their three little kids-- so Palutena and Pit decided to go sit in the far corner by the bathroom, between the back window and a giant fake plant. The very same table Link and Zelda had sat at earlier.

“I can’t believe it’s fall already,” Pit remarked, sitting down. “It’s gonna be too cold for ice cream soon.”

“Never thought I’d hear that out of  _ you _ .”

“Yeah, just kidding. It’s never too cold for ice cream,” he grinned. Never too cold to take a giant bite out of your double-scoop waffle cone ice cream. “Are there napkins somewhere? This is gonna be everywhere by the time I’m done.”

“One step ahead of you,” Palutena smirked, sliding a couple across the table.

The two of them sat in silence for a few minutes, eating their respective ice creams, and thinking their respective thoughts.

Palutena looked pensive, Pit noted. Her eyes were focused on the pink triangle designs decorating the surface of the table; but obviously, something was going on behind them.

“How is Link?” she suddenly asked, head jolting up.

“He’s… fine, I think. But he says he's been getting headaches and having a lot of weird dreams lately. Maybe that’s just a chronic thing? I don’t really know,” Pit answered slowly, picking at the paper wrapping on his waffle cone.

“You haven’t told him about everything yet, have you?”

He blinked, a bit puzzled by her line of questioning. “Um… no? I don’t think he suspects a thing. That was part of the new plan, right?” Did she want to change her mind about his idea? He hoped not. He wasn’t ready for that.

Palutena sighed in relief. “Oh, good, good.”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, well,” she began, looking him right in the eyes. “And I’m sorry to ruin our nice night with a heavier conversation, but… I suppose it’s better to mention this sooner than later-- Farore reached out to me earlier today, asking how Link was doing. I told her what the two of us have been planning--”

_ Crap _ , his stupid little diversion was known to Palutena’s superiors now--

“--and she said that it doesn’t matter to her what we do with Link, so long as he doesn’t die before doing what he needs to.”

So… what, then?

“I just want to let you know we’re still rolling with your plan,” she smiled, knowing exactly what was on his mind. 

“You  _ actually _ think it’s a good idea?” Pit asked. “It could fall apart really easily… Link could die, somehow, if we’re not watching him directly…” Wow, great. As soon as the other gods get involved, you backpedal on your own plan. “You don't have to listen to me, if you really don’t want to.”

“It’s not just about doing what you want,” she exhaled, staring out the window at a few dead leaves getting swept about by a gust of wind. “I just think I’d like his last days to be peaceful, you know?”

Oh.

“If I let Galeem and Dharkon do whatever they wanted with him… I shudder to think of what would happen.”

The wind picked up. A leaf thumped against the window before flying off.

“Doing things your way, Link learns what he needs to, without having to know about his circumstances until absolutely necessary.” She turned back to face him. “It just feels like the right thing to do, you know?”

So,  _ was _ she bothered by this whole end-of-the-world thing? If that was the case, then…

“Pit, your ice cream’s dripping all over your hands.”

He looked down. Indeed it was. He hadn’t been paying attention. “You know, I’m going to go to the bathroom super fast,” he blurted out, jumping out of his seat, quickly tossing what was left of his dessert into the trash, and rushing to the restroom in the back of the store.

The sink water was really hot. The kind of freezing-and-burning feeling that happens when you’ve been holding something cold for a while. But Pit’s mind was rushing around in a completely different place.

Would Palutena really be willing to go directly against the supreme gods? She was crafty. She was willing to go behind their backs a little bit just now.

Maybe you should ask, before you get your hopes up.

The mirror above the sink had a giant crack running down the middle of it. He frowned, briefly, at the warped reflection before leaving the bathroom.

Pit sat back down, silently. He looked up to Palutena, who was absentmindedly poking around the melted remains of her ice cream with her spoon.

“Hey… if you could change Galeem and Dharkon’s minds, uh, and get them to stop. Their plan. Would you?”

She set her spoon down. A rueful expression crossed her face. “I suppose, if I could? Then yes, I would,” she sighed. “I love this world. All the wonderful people living in it. But… there’s nothing I can do. So it’s a reality I’ve learned to accept.”

“Are you sure there’s nothing to do?” he protested, resting his head in his hands.

Suddenly, she grabbed one of his hands, squeezing it in her own. “I know-- I know this must be  _ so _ much harder for you. You’ve never experienced this before. I have, I know what it’s like, having to move on. And it is what it is, there’s nothing to be done.”

He stared right at her, big blue eyes wide open. Of course she felt this way. She had protected the humans for millennia, she’d know better than anyone else that, sometimes, there was nothing to be done.

“Just, please, remember--” she squeezed his hand even harder-- “I’ll be there for you. After everything is gone, I’ll help you move on, we’ll start all over together.”

“I-- yeah,” he exhaled. “...Sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry about anything, Pit,” she reassured. “You’ve always been there for me, so consistently. Even now, when it’s harder than ever.” She smiled softly, releasing his hand. “I suppose, what I’m trying to say… Thank you. For holding on.”

Oh, that was not how he felt at all. He couldn't let go yet, he couldn’t be fearless, he was still stuck on that Antarctica wall-- “You’re welcome,” he found himself blurting out, as always. As much as he tried to fight it, Palutena was right. She had always mattered the most to him, more than the fleeting existence of the world the two of them lived in; the only one who had ever bothered to comfort him. He owed her more than anyone else.

“You’re so loyal to me, Pit.”

Was that all, though?

No, no, no. She _ really  _ cares about you. Why else would she keep you around?

“You look… troubled,” Palutena noticed, exhaling with a casual expression. “Let’s stop talking about this, shall we? No use dwelling on inevitabilities.”

He nodded. Anything but this, please.

The two of them thought for a moment.

“Hey, you should invite Link over to our house. I’d love to meet him in person,” she suggested. 

He almost couldn’t stand to think about Link right now. But, truly, the two of them were friends. Link had invited him over to  _ his _ home, so why shouldn’t Pit do the same? He liked that idea: being a normal kid, inviting his friend over to his house, totally normally. “Y-yeah, I’ll ask him if he wants to…” Pit answered, breaking out into a small grin. “He’s a cool guy. I think you’d like him.”

“And I can be your overbearing, embarrassing mom,” she teased. “I’ll grill out in the backyard and everything.”

“You know, I think it’s the dads that do the grilling, usually.”

“Oh, who cares about that. We have a grill. I want to use it.”

Oh, gods. Lady Palutena making food on a barbecue. It would surely end badly. Link would probably criticize the two of them for their garbage culinary skills. “We could always order take-out from somewhere,” he said, cringing inwardly. 

“Too late. I’m sold on the grilling idea.”

And they laughed, chatting about fun plans for having Link over. It was amazing how fast Pit was able to push the existential dread from his mind; it was comforting to just talk and be silly, as they always had been.

If nothing else, at least this would never change.

  
  
  



	17. XVI. I think you're pretty neat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so. nice weather we're having, eh?
> 
> \----

October 11th, 2019. Two hundred and sixty-four days out.

“For you.”

“For me?”

“Sure. You looked cold, so…”

Link grabbed the blanket out of Pit’s hands, tossing it over his shoulders. “Thanks.”

October had really only just begun, but temperatures were already beginning to drop, especially on the cold grass of Pit’s backyard.

Somehow, the plans that had been made at the ice cream parlor the other day worked out. Link had come over to hang out, Lady Palutena had just grilled out (with a  _ little  _ help from Link), and now, the two of them were quietly sitting out on the lawn-- the first quiet moment Pit felt he’d had since this morning. He’d spent the whole day fretting over having a guest at his house, and then most of the evening, too, considering that Link seemed to want to spend the whole time talking to the famous actress Teyna Halloway from those Carvel superhero-racing movies he liked so much, which mostly relegated Pit to sitting awkwardly off to the side while his goddess did most of the chatting.

Pit sighed, passively knotting blades of grass into a chain. Was he being a failure? It certainly felt like it, sitting around in silence, with nothing but the loud rushing of cicadas to fill the space.

Link was just sitting there, head resting on his knees. Probably bored out of his mind. Pit probably shouldn’t have expected anything different. He was always just kind of… there, existing, but never contributing much of anything. Why was he expecting himself to magically be of any substance?

“So… the… sky sure is nice, huh?” Link blurted out.

“What?”

“I don’t know,” he chuckled, brushing his bangs out of his eyes. “I just felt like I should say something.”

“Oh, leave that to me,” Pit teased. “Talking’s my thing, remember?”

“What do  _ you  _ want to say, then?”

Nonsense. All you ever say is nonsense.

  
  


He thought for a moment, leaning his head in his hands. “Well… if you think the sky’s nice here, you should see it, er… back at my old home, actually,” Pit started, thinking back to the floating isles of Skyworld. “We sort of lived out in the country, so there wasn’t all that disgusting light pollution blocking out the stars.”

“Yeah?”

“You can hardly see anything down here. Like… the Big Dipper, and then Venus, over there. That’s it.”

“Pit, I have no idea where you’re pointing.”

“You can’t see that bright speck in the sky over there?”

“Not really.”

“Seriously?”

“No.”

“You must have bad eyesight or something, then.”

They fell into silence once more. Pit kept stealing glances at Link, sitting cross-legged on the lawn at his side, and hoped to all he knew that his friend wanted to be there.

“You want some of the blanket?”

“Hm?”

“I don’t want you to be cold, either…”

“Ah,” Pit shrugged. “I don’t get cold that easily.”

Link threw half the blanket over his shoulders anyways.

_ Oh _ . This is nice.

He looked so comfortable. And warm, and toasty. Pit subtly scooted a little closer to him.

“...Link, are you having a good time?” Pit suddenly asked, picking at blades of grass underneath the blanket.

“Of course! I’ve said so, like, a bunch of times already,” Link laughed, softly. “Kicking around with friends… it’s what I like to do.”

“Are we kicking around right now?”

“Sure.”

“Okay.”

“...Why do you ask?”

Well, they weren’t doing  _ anything _ . How could Link not be bored out of his mind, sitting next to some awkward kid under a blanket? That’s why people liked each other-- they do things with each other, they do things for each other, at least, that’s why anyone had ever liked him in the first place--

Wait… stop for a minute, you’re overthinking things.

“Just making sure you’re okay,” Pit answered, forcing a bit of a smile.

“I’m… good,” Link nodded, staring out into the distance. “Yeah.”

As if that meant anything. That could mean a million different things, it could be a lie, it could be the truth, and Pit wanted nothing more than to just  _ know  _ what was going on in his friend’s mind. Maybe… he just needed to be candid. Yeah. That was it.

“Why are you friends with me?” Pit questioned, plainly.

Link suddenly went a little bit red, avoiding his gaze. “What kind of a question is that?” he sputtered. 

“I dunno, I’m just kind of curious,” he insisted, going a little bit red himself in shameful embarrassment.

“No, no, you’re fine, Pit,” Link reassured, turning back to him with a bit of a rueful expression. “I just think it’s-- you don’t think I  _ don’t  _ want to be your friend, right?”

Pit said nothing, continuing to pick at the grass.

Link took the silence as a yes.

“Uh… to answer your question… I guess I like being your friend, because, you’re just… nice to be around. You’re chill all the time, and a little bit quirky, and you don’t really care that I’m a bit of a mess.” He sighed, leaning back. “I don’t really know, Pit. I guess I just kinda like you as a person, you know? And I like being around you. Mostly for no explainable reason other than that.”

Pit yanked a fistful of grass out, a little forcefully.

“You don’t think I need a reason to be your friend, right?”

“...Doesn’t it feel like that, though?”

It always had, at least to himself, as scummy as that made him feel on the inside. He helped people. It was what he did; it was what he was supposed to do. That’s why anyone ever had reason to like him, from the humans of the earth to his goddess herself.

“I don’t know,” Link admitted, eyes distant once more. “I don’t really… have any friends. Besides Zelda, obviously, and maybe DP, but that’s kind of it.”

“Why not?”

Link shrugged, leaning his head in a hand. “I don’t really know. Guess I never got good at making them.” He blinked, exhaling slowly. “Honestly, I’m probably not really worth anybody’s time, anyways.”

“You’re worth my time, if that means anything…”

The two of them met eyes for the briefest of moments, before Link diverted his gaze to the ground. “Thanks,” he smiled, though a little bitterly. “I guess you’re not like most people.”

Pit didn’t say anything. A hole of sudden, acute concern had just opened up in his mind.

“It makes sense, right?” Link continued, starting to rant a bit. “I’m not special. I don’t have anything to say. Of course nobody’s going to care about that. That’s kind of worthless.”

“Don’t say that,” Pit protested.

“Kind of hypocritical, coming from you.”

“W-what do you mean?”

“You think I need some reason to like you.”

“...Right.”

“Then that makes two of us, right?”

Pit felt it: a certain strage, inexplicable understanding, in that moment, like a shock to the head. One of loneliness, and self-expectations, and isolation, as much as he pretended he didn’t constantly wrangle with those things in his mind. They both felt it, really; Link, too, realized that perhaps his new friend was also hiding-- both of them, hiding the feelings they didn’t believe they should have.

They met eyes again, but this time, their gazes didn’t falter. Link’s deep-blue eyes met Pit’s own sky-blue ones, boring what felt like holes into Link’s skull with their intensity.

“Do you ever get lonely?” Pit breathed, no longer thinking through what he was saying. “Even though you shouldn’t be?”

“All the time,” Link nodded. “All the time.”

He was the same. Maybe it was a bit more pedestrian than being an angel among gods, but Link felt the same, and Pit knew, in the core of his being, that he’d  _ never _ want Link to feel this way ever again.

Neither said anything more, but at some point, Pit became tired of mutilating the grass with his hands, and flopped over onto his back. Link joined him, adjusting the blanket between the two of them. Up in the sky were the barely-visible stars of their suburban night sky; sure enough, if he squinted hard enough, he could see Venus, a small speck of light in the sky, and even more faintly, parts of the Big Dipper, just barely glowing from the distances of the universe.

“For what it’s worth,” Link blurted out, one arm behind his head, “I think you’re pretty neat.”

And it was real. 

A real friend. Someone who cared, even if he literally didn’t have a reason to.

“Thanks,” Pit murmured back.

At some point, Link’s hand accidentally brushed Pit’s, under the blanket. Pit instinctively grabbed for it. They both left it like that, in a silent, knowing, awkward-yet-close sort of moment.

Link’s hand was as comfortable and warm as the rest of him seemed earlier, he thought, smiling dumbly to himself, especially against the cold autumn air. His eyes were closed, too; so perfectly content, in that moment. So peaceful. The touch of his hand made Pit feel like his brain had sputtered out and was running on nothing but air.

Maybe it was love or something-- all the wiggly, uncontrollable feelings he’d sensed in his chest whenever he looked in Link’s direction. The visceral sadness he’d felt in his heart when Link had virtually called himself worthless, and the fierce desire to be the solution to his loneliness.

That’s what it might have been, holding hands, under the blanket. 

Who knows. It was a precious moment, and that was enough.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah I had to completely rewrite this one from what it was the first time around. it was twice the length it is now and about two thirds of it was rambling nonsense.


	18. XVII. A Recruitment, In Three Parts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> something is probably going to come of this...
> 
> \----

\----I hope this is a good idea, but I’m feeling like it isn’t??

October 14th, 2019. Two hundred and sixty-one days out.

A certain strange, inexplicable feeling, of understanding someone else’s loneliness. Link had been mulling over this feeling the entire weekend.

Pit understood; he, too, must have felt desperately detached from everyone else. Link could sense it, in the heart-rending way he simply asked, ‘Why are you friends with me?’ If that wasn’t the question Link asked himself every day. Why would anyone want to be friends with a mess of a loner such as himself, constantly stewing in a flood of his own existentialism and depressing thoughts? 

But that thought wasn’t logical-- not any more. He and Pit felt the same, and though Link certainly didn’t understand _why_ Pit was so lonely all the time, he understood it, and he’d be _wrong_ not to also understand that Pit cared about him.

They’d even accidentally held hands under the blanket, for a brief moment, before Link chickened out and wrestled his hand from Pit’s grasp, afraid of overstepping his bounds.

A plan began to form in his mind.

Link had been feeling… vaguely better lately, despite the added stress of senior year, being destined to destroy the world, breaking out into headaches nearly every day, and being kept up at night with strange dreams. He wasn’t stupid, though-- the members of Ninten Fight Club were probably most of the reason things had been going so well.

Zelda was always there for him. Now, even more, in the shared madness that was their lives. DP was strange, but Link was beginning to see an intensely passionate, caring side to him that he had never seen before. Meggy understood his frustrations, and brought the levity he needed so badly. And, of course, all the rest of them, coming together to form their rag-tag, close-knit group of rebellious teens… and, uh, millenia-old demigods.

If Pit was as lonely as Link himself was, then… why not let him join the NFC? DP had trusted him to start recruiting some other people, after all. Meggy brought on Olive. Now it was his turn to bring someone.

It was perfect, really. Link couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of it sooner. 

Probably because of how ridiculous everything was. Pit didn’t seem like a skeptic, but everyone would have a _little_ trouble believing in giant floating hands and supreme gods and star warriors and angels and magic destinies.

Link would… figure out how to explain that when they got there, he supposed.

Instead of meeting Pit in their usual lunch spot, Link intercepted him in the halls, and led him into the cafeteria. He knew Meggy and DP had lunch this period. Lucas did, too. The three of them sat together in some shady corner of the cafeteria. 

“Where are we going…?” Pit asked, stumbling behind Link.

“To meet my friends,” Link replied. “Or, uh, my other friends.”

“Okay?”

Hopefully, Pit would actually _like_ his friends. And vice versa. That was step one.

Sure enough, Link found Meggy, DP, and Lucas hunched over on the floor, in the far corner of the cafeteria, a bit hidden by the extra lunch tables folded against the wall.

“LINK!” Meggy shouted, waving her arms around in the air. “You’ve finally decided to join us! Took you long enough.”

“Yeah,” he laughed, a bit awkwardly. Now he just had to… introduce friend to other friends.

Uh.

Dammit, he was stupid. Usually, _he_ was the one getting introduced to other people. Hopefully, he wouldn’t screw this up; though, maybe, he already had, based off of the large scowl on DP’s face.

Fortunately, Meggy made it easy, in her easygoing, blunt way. “I see you hanging around this guy all the time,” she said, pointing at Pit with a smirk. “Who’s he?”

“Geez, Meggy, that’s not much of an introduc--”

“Silence, Lucas.”

Lucas shut up, instead waving to Pit in a sign of peace.

“This is, uh, Pit Halloway,” Link began, looking nervously to the side. “He’s a friend of mine. Normally we sit around outside… but, um, I figured it would be good to let you all know that I’m not completely forgetting about you? But also not completely forgetting about Pit, either.”

Pit shoved his hands in his pockets. “Heya… Nice to meet you,” he stammered.

Meggy stuck out her hand, grabbing Pit’s and shaking it confidently. “‘Sup! I’m Meggy Cephalo. Link’s crazy artist friend.”

“And I’m Lucas Tazmily!” Lucas chimed in, taking Pit’s other hand and shaking it much more lightly than his orange-haired friend. “Can’t say I’m Link’s _crazy_ friend… but I try to be a nice guy, aha.”

Pit stood there, awkwardly, letting them shake his hands. Meggy dropped his hand after a moment, turning to DP. “You wanna introduce yourself, fun sponge?” she teased.

DP crossed his arms, attempting to occupy himself with his phone. “We’ve met already.”

Pit looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.

_Good job, Link, you_ _idiot_ _\--_

“You’ll have to forgive DP,” Meggy smirked, again. “He’s a certified asshole.”

“He kind of is, isn’t he?” Pit agreed, half-smiling.

Well, maybe it wasn’t going so badly? Meggy was, thankfully, good at salvaging conversations and making people feel welcome.

“Come, join our circle,” Meggy offered, motioning towards the floor. “I brought a giant bag of Cheetos today. Have as many as you want.”

Cheetos? Hell yeah. Link immediately stuck his fist in, pulling out a giant handful and stuffing them in his mouth. Pit, too, sat down, tentatively, observing everyone’s stares. “You know… I’ve never had Cheetos before,” he admitted, sticking a hand in the bag, and pulling out exactly one Cheeto.

“Seriously?” Meggy gawked. “You’re missing out. They’re the greatest thing ever created. Little, orange, cheese… noodles of greatness. Doesn’t get better than this!”

“How have you never had Cheetos before?” Lucas asked, chuckling.

Pit blinked, looking blank, before beginning. “My mom’s kind of a health nut, so we don’t usually have snack food in the house.”

“Oh, dude, same,” Meggy exclaimed. “I’ve got a secret stash of food in my room at all times, because the Cheeto is the ‘commoner’s food,’ as my douchey parents would probably say. Can’t wait to go to college and actually be in charge of my own diet.”

“At least you don’t have to wait four years for that,” Lucas groaned, peeling a banana. “I just wanna be done with high school already.”

Meggy rolled her eyes. “Oh, boo hoo, Mr. Tazmily. Save it for when you’re a senior. Enjoy it while it hasn’t gone stale yet! So, Pit, where are you from?” she asked, suddenly changing the subject.

“...Well, my mom and I used to live in California, but now we’re here,” he answered plainly, wiping Cheeto dust on his overalls.

“Like, what part? The North? The South? The… East? Heck, do they even say ‘East California?’”

“Nah, it’s mostly just ‘Nocal’ and ‘Socal.’ What would you even call East California? ...EaCal?” 

“Are you from the legendary ‘EaCal,’ then?”

“Well, we were living a bit outside of LA, I guess,” Pit shrugged. “I don’t really know what direction of California that would be in, though.”

Meggy’s face lit up. “Oh, sick! That’s where I’m trying to go to college. You’ve heard of CalArts, right?”

“...No?”

“It’s only the best art school in the country. Me and DP are applying there. And then we’re gonna go together!-- If things go right, of course-- but I’m sure they will,” she added, grabbing DP by the arm, causing him to drop his phone on the ground in surprise.

“Don’t touch me,” he groaned.

Pit stole a glance at DP. “So you guys are artists? That’s pretty cool!”

“Meggy, show him your stuff!” Lucas suggested. 

“Oh, you flatter me, Mr. Tazmily.”

Looks like Meggy’s application was almost done. Her art had a very distinct, loud, colorful style to it, free-flowing and all over the place. Link always found himself marvelling at her skills: extremely impressive, for someone who was only eighteen. Pit, too, gawked at it, thumbing through her sketchbook, and complimenting every single drawing. Meggy loved the attention. Lucas found the whole scenario a little hilarious. DP… watched them, over his shoulder.

Pit stopped, suddenly, looking down at a particular page. “Oh, hey, it’s… you guys! And some other guys…”

Meggy grinned. “Yeah, I’ve been drawing all my friends, for kicks and giggles. See, that there’s Ness, an annoying little freshman, and there’s Akira, and Zelda, and then Olive, my _significant other.”_ Dramatic emphasis on that last part.

“Akira Kurusu?” Pit questioned.

“Yeah. You know him?”

“...My mom’s dating his aunt.”

That sent everyone into disbelieving laughter. Pit grinned, explaining in great detail how exactly _that_ situation came to be.

Now _there_ was the loud-mouth Pit that Link was familiar with. Meggy and Lucas seemed to really like him, too, in all his wacky eccentricness. Looks like his little scheme was going successfully.

Seeing Pit confident, amongst other people… it filled Link with an inexplicable happiness.

\----

The harder part would be actually getting Pit onto the team. 

DP was not really fond of Pit. 

For some reason. 

Link had originally speculated it was because of his constant upbeat attitude on the outside, but DP was also really close with Kirby, who was even _more_ upbeat than Pit himself.

Ah, whatever. He’d just bite the bullet and ask DP to let Pit on, and see what would happen. There was no good reason to reject him, anyways, if he was desperate for more help.

Link cornered DP in the parking lot after school that day, as he tried to unlock his car.

“What do you want, Link?” DP grumbled, turning around as soon as he sensed Link approaching.

“Good afternoon to you, too.”

He sighed. “Not to be-- sorry. Not trying to be snappy.”

Well, it was as much of an apology as Link would ever get out of him. Hopefully, he wouldn’t mind a bit more frustration. “Uh,” Link started, “You got time to talk?” 

DP shut his car door, leaning against the side of the vehicle. “I guess so. What do you need?”

“...Well, obviously, I introduced you guys to Pit at lunch…”

“Obviously.”

“And, recently, I’ve been wondering-- since he’s a good friend of mine-- maybe, since you’re still looking for help, he could join the NFC--”

DP immediately went pale, eyes wide. “No. Absolutely not.”

“What the hell?” Link sputtered. “Why not?”

“Because...” DP hesitated, turning away from Link, “...Because I don’t trust him.”

Okay, that was completely unfair. How could he mistrust someone he hadn’t spent more than forty minutes around before? He’d recruited Akira and the psychic kids onto the team without much of a thought beforehand… why was Pit any different? If anything, he was _more_ trustable, since Link knew him beforehand.

Link groaned. “What do you mean, you don’t trust him?”

DP was silent for a moment. Link bored holes into the back of his head with his frustrated glare. “Firstly, I have no idea if he can fight.”

“Meggy can’t really fight. Zelda can’t really fight. Hell, even Olive doesn’t have much fighting experience. You can train him, like you’re training the rest of us.”

“Zelda is the team's brains, and I’ve known Meggy and Olive for a while at this point. I know… nothing, about Pit,” DP shot back, glare icy. “If I don’t want him on, he’s not on.”

Oh, that was absolutely ridiculous. “That’s stupid. What, do you have some kind of secret grudge with him or something? This isn't normal! You’re being _weird,_ DP,” Link continued, beginning to raise his voice in uncharacteristic anger. 

“I don’t know _anything_ about him at all, okay?” DP blurted out. “ _Nothing!_ Shit, dude, leave me alone!” With that, he aggressively yanked the car door open, slid inside, and slammed it shut.

What the hell was up with him?

Link pondered on the way home. Something about Pit bothered DP, he had no idea what, and it was frustrating, beyond belief. Maybe… there was something deceptive about Pit, that DP was able to sense, and Link wasn’t, like with his magic angel omniscience or something equally bullshitty.

No way. There was nothing deceptive about Pit. He’d practically bared his heart to him the other night, on the lawn. There was no faking those feelings. Link just wanted Pit to be on the team, to let him have some friends, to let him start feeling better.

It was thoroughly stupid, Link decided.

At 10:54 pm, he received a bluntly-worded string of messages:

**ratchorus** : link.

**ratchorus** : about earlier.

**ratchorus** : i was being stupid about letting your friend onto the team. so sorry. i guess.

**ratchorus** : i’ve got no vendetta against him. he just kinda rubs me the wrong way.

**ratchorus** : but beggars can’t be choosers

**ratchorus** : so he can join nfc if he wants to.

An extremely aggressive reaction to ‘being rubbed the wrong way,’ and an extremely casual straightening out of whatever had happened back in the parking lot. 

But, if DP had decided to concede, then that was all Link needed to hear. 

_Oh._

His little plan worked, Link realized.

He felt... excited. Truly excited, for the first time in a long while, down in the bottom of his gut. It was going to be a perfect collision: his friend, and his group of friends, all saving the world together, having a grand time.

It was going to be great.

  
  


\----let’s see what the boss has to say about all this.

October 15th, 2019. Two hundred and sixty days out.

Pit was astonished. He and Lady Palutena held the prospect of joining DP’s team in the back of their heads for a while, but… Pit really didn’t expect Link to just waltz up and ask him if he wanted on directly. DP had given the okay and everything. 

Link seemed thrilled. 

He had no idea of the mess he was getting himself in. 

It was only a matter of time before DP would inevitably tip Link off about Pit’s true identity. Link even seemed to have some idea of it now.

“Hey,” Link had started, the next day at school, sliding down the brick wall the two of them usually sat against. “I talked to DP last night. He says you can officially join the team.”

“Oh, really?” Pit exclaimed, forcing a grin. “That’s great!”

In truth, he was terrified of having to lie his way through Ninten Fight Club. Palutena could help him, as always, but… it was only a matter of time before he’d inevitably crack under the pressure of DP’s scorn, and Link’s misled excitement. And when that would happen, it would inevitably be the death of whatever was happening between himself and Link right now. If Pit was being honest with himself, he _really_ didn’t want that to happen.

But, it was part of his mission. He was an angel. It was what he had to do.

Didn’t stop his heart from anxiously skipping a beat when Link nonchalantly said, “It took some fighting with DP about it. He doesn’t like you, for… some reason. Like, you’re suspicious to him or something, even though he says he knows nothing about you?” Pit stared, wide-eyed, at Link, holding his breath. “I don’t really know. It was all kind of stupid. Have you, uh, met him before?”

“N-no, never… I guess he just thinks I’m weird, or something,” Pit laughed, nervously. “Lots of people do.”

“Aw, Meggy and Lucas like you,” Link insisted. “DP’s just an ass sometimes.”

True, Dark Pit could be an ass. But that’s not at all what this was. He had every right in the world to be suspicious of his counterpart’s actions.

So, like always, he took his fears to Lady Palutena later that night.

“What do I do about Dark Pit?” he exclaimed, anxiously stirring his spoon around in his bowl of Kraft macaroni. “It’s so obvious he still hates me, but he let me onto his team, and now I’m afraid he’s gonna tell Link that I’m some... awful traitor!”

Palutena rested her head in her hands. “You haven’t spoken to Dark Pit since… _that_ night, have you?”

_That_ night, when Dark Pit ghosted the two of them, presumably never to return again. “No,” he said, ruefully. “Not until now.” 

Palutena sat in silence. Pit watched her, nervously, as she furrowed her brows in concentration. “It’s been so long, and… we really don’t have any idea what he’s like now. To be honest, I don't know _what_ he’s trying to do, letting you on to his team.”

“That’s comforting,” Pit mumbled.

“Hey. Look at me--” fearful blue eyes met soft, green ones-- “Whatever happens, I’ll protect you, remember? You have nothing to fear,” Palutena smiled. “This is just another part of our mission, no matter… _what_ Dark Pit may or may not be doing to thwart it.”

Pit sighed. That wasn’t really his problem right now. It was as Palutena had said before: Dark Pit was basically powerless in the face of inevitability. It was about Link.

Dammit. He’d sworn not to let Link get in the way of his mission, and, well, here he was.

“But, what if Link _hates_ me? When this is all over?”

“He may, Pit. If that’s what needs to happen.”

She was right. As much as it felt like the killing blow to admit. 

Pit started intensely down at his macaroni, attempting to avoid her gaze. 

“Please, for your own sake, be careful, throwing your heart around,” she suggested, a hinted undertone of pleading in her voice. “I don’t want you to have more cause for despair.”

He couldn’t finish his food. Any appetite he had vanished at her words. Standing up, silently, he left the table, shuffling into the kitchen to rinse out his half-full bowl of macaroni in the sink.

Watered-down macaroni was… disgusting. He could hardly even watch it go down the drain.

God, this was so unfair.

But he’d say nothing about it, not to Lady Palutena, not to anyone else. It was not his place to do so.

  
  


\----let’s hear it for making this complicated for myself. 

October 17th, 2019. Two hundred and fifty-eight days out.

Every single meeting of the Ninten Fight Club gave reason for DP to feel anxious throughout the whole day. But this one in particular? Yeah, this one had been causing his insides to roil in fear for the past few days. Not great on the liver.

He’d almost lost it at Link, the other day. _No, no, no, Pit will ruin everything, he absolutely cannot be on the team,_ he’d thought, every alarm in his head sounding at once.

Then he’d gone back on his word that very same day. Link had said that he was beginning to suspect some… prior relation between him and Pit; after all, what else would cause such an angry outburst?

He could, under no circumstances, let _anyone_ know what he really was. As much as he pretended that no, it wasn’t, it didn’t actually matter to him at all. He’d spent so long trying to purge that fact out of his mind. He couldn’t let it all become undone in one swift blow.

So, he’d conceded to Link. There was no other good reason for leaving Pit off the team, after all. If DP told Link that Pit was an angel, surely he’d start to question the NFC’s cause, since it was almost too obvious how much Link liked him, and then DP would lose the one upper hand he had against the gods. And if he _didn’t_ tell Link anything, and just left Pit off the team, then Link would surely continue to suspect something between himself and Pit, which would lead to him asking Pit for answers, which would lead to… yeah.

Fuck all of this complicated nonsense.

Anyways.

Thursday night, everyone piled into his home, as usual. Link introduced Pit to everyone, and they all got along-- sickeningly well. DP stayed in the back. Watching.

He watched Pit pretend to learn how to throw a punch from Link.

He watched Pit pretend to not know how to hold a sword.

He watched Pit and Link sitting on the floor together, carrying on like the two greatest friends in the world.

He watched Pit happily blabber on and on to the others, in direct contradiction to the awkward mess he’d been at the beginning of lunch the other day.

They loved him. Everyone loved him. Nobody suspected a thing, and DP couldn’t even tell any of them that they were being completely strung along.

His stupid goddess was obviously guiding him along. The Pit he knew wasn’t nearly this competent at executing an elaborate lie on his own. Didn’t Palutena have anything better to do than mess with his mind? Hell, Link’s mind, too?

Meggy, apparently, seemed to notice how tilted he was, all alone, leaning against the planning wall. She asked how he was; he sent her back to the group. This wasn’t her problem.

“Quit being so broody,” she insisted, crossing her arms. “You look like someone just interrupted you in the middle of your Halo game to tell you your dysfunctional parents are getting a divorce.”

“I _feel_ like someone just interrupted me in the middle of my Halo game to tell me my dysfunctional parents are getting a divorce,” he muttered, glaring in Pit’s direction.

Meggy slunk away. “...I’m not even going to pretend I know what that means.”

Maybe… maybe he’d get a better read on Pit, if DP left him with nothing to do. See what would happen if he left Pit with nothing to let his goddess work through. “HEY, LINK!”

Link jumped, startled. “Uh… yeah? What’s up?”

“Get over here. We’re gonna spar, so everyone, clear out of the way.”

Link, who had been standing in a circle with Akira, Ness, and Pit, raised an eyebrow. “Okay?”

He could use one of his blades-- wait, no, not with Pit right over there-- speaking of, what was he doing now? 

Still standing with Akira and Ness. But silently.

DP watched him, out of the corner of his eye. It was a crappy spar; he didn’t care, though, he had more important matters than not making a fool of himself in front of his protege. 

Pit had sort of retreated to the wall. His eyes, blue and wide, intensely focused on Link’s every move, paying absolutely no attention to whatever DP was doing. It was a look of pure wonder, not of tactical calculation.

He had no idea what it meant.

Argh, screw all of this.

Looks like he’d just have to talk to Pit directly, as much as he wished to avoid it. Being around the other angel set off his nervous system and made him want to barf. He knew it was pathetic, especially after all this time the two of them had spent apart.

So, because he was an impulsive idiot, DP pulled him aside as soon as everyone else filed out for the night.

“Pit, he began, inhaling sharply.

“Y-yes?” Pit responded, softly, shoving his hands deep into his pockets, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

“What the _fuck_ are you doing here?”

DP watched, intensely, as Pit paled, and frantically began to look around the room for something to focus on besides his irate, impatient expression.

“I’m-- um--”

“Spying on us? Out to snatch Link away?”

“ _No_ ,” Pit interjected, tone of voice exasperated in a way DP hadn’t really ever heard before. “I’m not here to ruin your plan. I just want to watch Link, is all. Make sure he… doesn’t die.”

“And you can’t do that from your little perch in Skyworld.”

“...No.”

But that’s what he wanted, wasn’t it? “Your goddess must be wringing you around, in that case,” DP scoffed. “You haven’t changed at all.”

Pit didn’t say anything in response. He just shrunk into himself further.

...Or, maybe he _had_ changed. Pit wasn’t normally this… listless. Quiet. Normally, he’d be quick to defend Palutena from DP’s verbal rocks.

He couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but it was obvious from the way Pit was acting that he was caught up in the middle of something he wanted no part of. And as much as DP wanted to shunt him out of his life once again, he couldn’t deny the familiar feeling.

They’d been apart for a thousand years, and despite the time, it still would be a real dick move to just leave his… _former…_ counterpart out in the proverbial cold.

Against his will, DP’s angered face softened, and he exhaled. “Okay, look… we’re obviously going to need to discuss this further. I don’t trust you. You don’t trust me. We’re both probably fucking exhausted right now. Why don’t we meet, say, next week, and just… talk.”

“Sure,” Pit immediately responded, under his breath.

“At, uh. Smash Pizza or something. It’s loud in there all the time. No one will hear us. Is that okay?”

“Sure.”

“Like, Friday, at… 4:00. After school.”

“...Sure.”

“Then I’ll see you there,” DP finished, crossing his arms.

“Yes.”

Pit didn’t wait for a goodbye, turning sharply on his heel. He grabbed his bag and walked out of the warehouse as fast as possible, disappearing once again.

_Shit and fuck._

His cat emerged from her hiding spot in the shadows, demanding to be fed. DP ignored her. He just stood there, in the middle of his home, shaking from leftover adrenaline he didn’t even know he had been feeling.

How disheartening. To get so… so _tilted_ over someone he’d just spent the past millennia trying to differentiate himself from. As if, despite his attempts, he hadn’t really changed at all.

He wanted to cry. But he wouldn’t let himself. 

_Just get over it._

God, he was so fried. Between the NFC, worrying about the world’s impending doom, plans to visit the World of Light, and now having to deal with the resurfacing of his old identity… he needed a break. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wahoo I went through the five stages of cringe grief at this fic this week but I think I'm squarely in the 'acceptance' phase now. we're in this for the long haul ahaha
> 
> also, huge gigantic thanks to everyone who's commented! I have Big Anxiety so it took a lot of prodding myself to finally go and read them... I'm sorry it took so long! but I finally did, and you're all super sweet :)


	19. XVIII. And So October Goes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just moving along...
> 
> \----

The rest of October passed pretty uneventfully for our angsty teens and demigods. Except for Halloween night-- but we’ll get to that when we get to that. 

\----

We start on October 19th, 2019, which happens to be two hundred and fifty-six days out from the end of the world.

Not two, not four, but three Crazy Hands in total had attacked the town that Saturday night. Ninten Fight Club took them out with relative ease-- between the combined efforts of DP and Kirby’s superhuman powers, Link’s uncanny sword fighting skills, Akira’s impeccable aim, and the resourceful psychic abilities of Ness and Lucas, these fights weren’t really proving to be all that difficult. Meggy knew she wasn’t much help, but that's alright. Her part was to be moral support.

And, hot damn, did NFC ever need it, right about now. New recruit Pit had stirred up some confusing drama in the group-- even though Meggy thought the guy was a ray of awkward sunshine that you couldn’t help but be friends with-- and everyone had kind of been on edge over the past few days. Or ditching school. Or both.

Meggy attempted to cheer DP up as he drove her back home. She’d even conceded to listening to his uninspired vaporwave nonsense instead of her preferred pop jams.

“Why are you so jintzed?” she asked, bouncing in her seat. “Everyone’s jintzed, and I don’t know why.”

DP didn’t take his eyes off the road. “What the shit does ‘jintzed’ mean?”

“Like, you get irritated, because something’s ticked you off, so now you’re inexplicably pissy all the time.”

“I’m  _ always _ pissy, though. You remind me of this fact on the daily. Pretty sure nothing’s new here.”

Meggy smirked. “Well, you’re more _ jintzed _ than usual.”

“Meggy, if you don’t shut up about jintzedness, I’m gonna end up going for your throat, and then we’ll both die in a dramatic car accident. Do you want that?”

“Hey, it’d be a pretty baller way to die. Imagine my tombstone: Megan Claire Cephalo, 2001-2019. She died the way she lived: getting throttled by her weird angel friend. May she rest in pieces.”

DP raised an eyebrow. “Your middle name is Claire?”

“Yeah, and what about yours?”

“...Pooplord, apparently.”

Ah, Dipshit Pooplord. They were never going to live that one down. If they were back to their usual ribbing, as they seemed to be now, maybe everything was actually alright with DP. Maybe he was just really tired on Thursday and took it out on everyone else.

It was 11:24 pm when DP pulled into the Cephalos’ disgustingly large circle driveway.

“You’re home. I hope you’re satisfied,” he deadpanned, giving Meggy one last glare before driving back off into the darkness.

“What an asscrack,” she laughed to herself, unlocking the front door.

Now, Meggy could have gone to bed, but it was the final hours of the night. The time of maximum productivity, maximum inspiration. The time for… being an artist. Yeah, it was corny, but that’s how she always liked to phrase her fondness for the eleven o’clock hour. 

Her studio was in the basement. When at home, she practically lived down there, amongst the mess of scattered papers, canvases leaning against the wall, pencils lying all around on the floor, and paint stains on just about any permanent furniture in the room.

It was a disaster. She wouldn’t have it any other way.

Art wasn’t really an escape for Meggy, per se; it was more something she did to unleash all her chaotic emotions into something more physical. Reality was meant to be lived in, and Meggy was done trying to divorce herself from it. Life is what it is. Better make the most of it, you know?

...Heh. If her future art career ever went south, she could always start a shop online selling merchandise with little cats on it saying all her cheesy, empowering messages like: ‘Life is what it is! Better make the most of it, you know?’” She already knew a few people who may be in the market for one. Like… a t-shirt for Link. Or a mug for DP, since he was always drinking out of plastic cups from the local 7-11 back at his house. If you could even call it a house.

She was kind of exhausted, she realized, sitting down in her chair. 

Maybe because you just fought a bunch of hands! Who would’ve thought? Save your arting for later!

Running a hand through her hair to pull out her pigtails, she found… a stick.

Two of them, actually.

Meggy was also kind of a disaster. A walking disaster, to be precise. But, like her studio, she wouldn’t have it any other way.

\----

_ The Ninten Direct _

_ Your Latest in Online Ninten Academy News Updates _

_ by Samantha Squirt, Ivy Sorel, Charlie Zarr, and Red Trainor, Direct editors _

_ \--Halloween Hootenanny-- _

_ Attention all students of Ninten Academy! Coming up soon is our annual Halloween Costume Party, hosted right here in your gymnasium! Wear a costume, or don’t wear a costume-- whatever carves your pumpkins! Plenty of food, drinks, music, and games will be provided, so come on down if you’re looking for a spooktastic night! _

_ It would be great if us students could rally together this year and all come! Wouldn’t want those poor event planners to have a repeat of last year, would we? _

_ \---- _

It probably goes without saying that the annual Halloween Hootenanny has a pretty low turnout.

  
  


\----

October 22nd, 2019. Two hundred and fifty-three days out.

Lucas always made sure his family ate dinner together, every single day of the week. The three-- or, wait, four!-- of them each had their own crazy life, but dinner was when they could all come together and just goof around with each other.

Duster was a family friend, who had adopted Lucas four years ago in an unfortunate-yet-fortunate series of events. He was an anxious man in his late thirties, but was finally starting to live it up a little. Recently, he joined a band as a bassist: DCMC, a goofy send-up of ACDC, which Lucas absolutely adored. Duster was used to getting pushed around by others a lot of the time, so he and Lucas easily related in that respect.

Kumatora was a young cousin of Duster’s, living together with him and Lucas in their shared apartment. By day, she went to a university close outside of town, as a film student. She was basically Lucas’ big sister: confident, sly, and always willing to stick her neck out for him when he needed it.

Then there was his loyal dog, Boney. Boney had been there for him through everything. He was such a good boy. And pretty smart, too… if the three of them tried to justify that hard enough.

The four of them were certainly a rag-tag family. But, Lucas loved them with all of his heart, eccentricities and all.

Family dinner usually went something like this:

“So! How was the fight club?” Kumatora would ask, secretly desperate to someday be let in on the giant hand-fighting action herself. Though Lucas was sworn to secrecy about NFC, he couldn’t resist telling his family about all their wacky escapades.

Lucas would say something in response, like: “Oh, it was great! Akira started teaching me how to stab someone with a knife if I’m up close, and now I can do--” cue a sick twirling flourish with his steak knife-- “that!”

Then Duster would say, “Back when I was a criminal in 2005, my dad and I used to carry around knives a lot! I could never do that, though… or fight with them, really…”

“Aw, Duster, you just don’t have a warrior’s soul,” Kumatora would grin. “Unlike myself. Today, I broke up a fist fight between some low-life douches on campus. How’s that for being a warrior?”

Lucas always laughed at her dramatic retelling of her school days. “That’s pretty cool, Kuma.”

Then Boney would peek out from under the table and attempt to steal some food. Lucas knew it wasn’t good to feed his dog human food, but Boney always looked up at him with the dopiest, saddest puppy-dog eyes, and he caved every time.

This particular Tuesday went a little bit differently for the four of them. In the middle of a conversation about Lucas’ favorite kinds of lizards, a crackling boom was heard from the living room area. Everyone turned around in surprise. Boney started barking like mad. Duster screamed like a banshee.

“Wait, wait, guys, don’t freak out!” Lucas shouted, jumping out of his seat and into the… smoking living room. What the heck? He had to wave a bit of smoke out of his face to make out what had just, uh, magically appeared in the house. It was…

Ness?

“Hey,” Ness coughed, face covered in dark soot.

Lucas stared down at him in total confusion. “Ness…” he began, “Why are you here? In my house?”

Ness huffed. “A funky little power called PK Teleport.”

“PK Teleport?”

“Yeah, dude. I was in the middle of working on New Pork City in our Survivalcraft world, when I, uh, accidentally teleported myself here.”

The two of them knew their inexplicable psychic abilities were weird. But this was, perhaps, one of the strangest incidents of them randomly acting up. “How does that even work?” Lucas questioned.

“I was about to ask you a question over text, but then I thought to myself, ‘Hey. It’d be cool if I could teleport to Lucas’ home right about now,’ and then I did.”

What?

Kumatora started cackling from the table. The others turned to look at her, still perplexed. “Ness, that’s insane!” she exclaimed.

“It is pretty weird,” Duster agreed.

Lucas looked at Ness, then off to the side, then back at Ness. “...Care to join us for dinner?”

“Heck yes,” Ness grinned. “I’d never say no to that.”

And then the fire alarm in the building went off. Quickly, the four of them shuffled outside, into the cold night air.

“Good job, Ness,” Lucas drawled.

Ness shrugged nonchalantly. “Whoopsies. At least I didn’t cause a  _ real _ fire this time.”

Yeah, unlike the time he’d accidentally set fire to the gymnasium in middle school. Lucas had specifically instructed Ness to never use PK fire again after that whole debacle.

Lucas looked at Ness. Ness looked at Lucas. Spontaneously, both of them started laughing madly, unable to control themselves.

Psychic powers were weird, weren’t they?

\----

October 24th, 2019. Two hundred and fifty-one days out.

To merge the Phantom Thieves and the NFC, or not to do that? 

Akira had been mulling over this question for quite some time now.

On the one hand, he certainly believed all the nonsense that DP guy had been spouting about the end of the world, after he’d gone off to space with a literal star child. The NFC wasn’t exactly the most… professional operation, and if they wanted to achieve their goals, they were going to need all the help they could get.

On the other hand, the Phantom Thieves always did their own thing. Vigilantism was sort of Akira’s stress reliever, and the Thieves were all of his best friends. He didn’t really want to ruin their hijinks with whatever the hell the NFC was doing. All he did there was fight weird hands and teach freshmen how to kick someone in the nards. 

He hadn’t told any of the Thieves about his second involvement. Mostly because he doubted they’d believe any of what he had to say.  _ He _ certainly didn’t believe any of it at first.

Perhaps he could ask Bayonetta for advice… assuming she wasn’t out tonight on a date with that movie star woman, of course. Bayonetta always seemed to know what to do. Or at least sound like she did.

She came home at 8 pm with a bag full of Chipotle, ready to watch another episode of The Office with her beloved nephew. They almost started the show, but then Akira nabbed the remote, pausing it from his slumped position on their couch.

“Bayo?”

“Yes?” she responded, mouth full of burrito bowl. 

“...I need your advice.”

“About what?”

“Remember when I told you about that fight club?”

Bayonetta smirked. “Akira, that’s not exactly something a person would forget very easily.”

Fair.

“Well. I’ve been thinking… do I merge the Phantom Thieves with the Ninten Fight Club, or not?” he began, resting his head in his palm. “Because the NFC isn’t exactly the most legitimate operation I’ve ever seen-- at least compared to what I’m used to.”

Bayonetta pondered for a moment, eyes narrowed at a picture on the wall. “Do you think this NFC actually needs the extra help?”

“Uh… maybe? All we’ve done is fight hands, and that’s not too bad, but the leader keeps on warning that there’ll be more. Bad stuff, that is. I’m not sure I believe him, though.”

“There’s a lot of strange stuff in the world, Akira,” Bayonetta said, sagely. “It may be worth it to give your little fight club the benefit of the doubt.”

Akira stared at his feet, propped up on the coffee table. “...I guess,” he shrugged.

“Just consider it,” Bayonetta winked. “It’s what I would do.”

Perhaps she was right. Akira resolved to give it some more thought.

\----

October 25th, 2019. Two hundred and fifty days out.

This milestone date was not lost on DP that afternoon as he walked through the front doors of Smash Pizza, full of anticipation for a meeting that could go any number of ways.

The joint was full of people, enjoying the freedom of a Friday afternoon, causing a constant white noise through their chatter. The booth DP found in the back of the restaurant, off to the side of the blipping arcade machines, was secluded away from everything else. No one would hear whatever would be said between himself and Pit.

4:00 pm. No sign of the other angel.

4:05 pm. Cloud Strife, apparently on table-waiting duty that day, asked DP if he’d like to order anything. He decided on cheese fries to share-- maybe Pit would appreciate the gesture, as a sort of olive branch of peace or something.

Cloud Strife… apparently, a modern-day mercenary, according to Meggy. Even if the rumor was bullshit, maybe it would be worth it to get him on the team?

...Eh, that was something to be covered another day. DP had much bigger things to worry about right now.

Like (4:08 pm) wondering why Pit was so late. Normally, Pit would be impeccable, if someone wanted him to be somewhere. But maybe that had changed.

DP didn’t know that Pit had spent the past ten minutes standing right outside the restaurant, attempting to psych himself up for their meeting.

4:09 pm, the cheese fries came. Conveniently fast. DP considered having some, but decided to wait.

4:10 pm, and Pit finally decided to make himself known, stumbling in through the door, frantically searching the restaurant for DP. Though he felt his insides begin to roil once again, he forced himself to stare intensely at Pit, hoping he’d notice the eye contact and make his way over to the table.

Red eyes met blue.

Pit shuffled into the other side of the booth. “H-heya,” he greeted, putting his messenger bag down right next to himself on the seat, nervously fiddling with the strap in his hands.

“Before I say anything,” DP began, just as he’d rehearsed in his head all day long, “If you’ve got your goddess in your head on telepathy or whatever, just stop. I’m not here to talk to her. I’m here to talk to  _ you. _ ”

“Well, she’s not, so just say what you want to say.”

Oh. 

DP coughed. “First off, I guess there’s no way to convince you to get off my team, right?”

“It’s what I have to do,” Pit stated. 

“So, Palutena’s put you up to this.”

“I told you, I’m supposed to be watching Link. This is how I’m doing it.”

“Well, for… personal reasons, I’m not gonna kick you off,” DP reassured. If Pit was smart he’d figure out what was meant by that. “So congrats,” he cringed, “you’re officially on the team.”

Pit looked down at the table. “Great.”

“ _ But, _ I’m not letting you on if you don’t agree to this: Don’t screw around with anyone. Obviously, that could mean a million things, but if you’re really just here to watch Link, then you’d better be doing only that,” he continued. 

“Of course.”

“I know I’m basically letting a double agent onto my team here--” and then DP paused, in the middle of what he was saying.

Dammit. He really was letting a double agent onto his team, was he not? He could tell Pit not to mess around all he liked, but those mere words weren’t going to change Palutena’s mind. Or the other gods’ minds. What was DP going to be able to do to stop them?

“Well, if it means anything, I don’t really care… what happens.” Pit said, filling in the sudden silence.

“What do you mean?”

“You guys could stop the apocalypse, or not. I don’t care.”

DP narrowed his eyes. “...Does Palutena not care, in that case? Is that what this is about?”

“No,” Pit interrupted, stumbling over the word, “I’m…”

“You’re what?”

“I’m stalling for time,” he blurted out. DP watched his face contort into a wince, as if it had been almost impossible for him to force the words out. “I’m  _ supposed  _ to train Link, and tell him everything he needs to know, and then leave, but I’m stalling instead. And, uh, it doesn’t really matter, right? Galeem and Dharkon are going to do what they want to do, and nothing we do is going to be able to stop them. A little stalling won’t… hurt.”

Pit was going against orders, he realized. The undyingly loyal Pit was going directly against what his goddess wanted him to do.

What the hell kind of world was DP living in right now?

“Don’t tell anyone I said that, though,” Pit exhaled quickly, back to staring down at the table.

“I have literally no reason to.”

Pit looked back up. “So… you leave me to watch Link, and then I’ll just let you do your thing, right?”

“Exactly. We’ll leave each other alone.”

It was probably the best agreement the two of them could come to, for the time being. DP still didn’t trust Pit an ounce, but as long as he wasn’t actively trying to sabotage anything, then it was… fine. 

“And, uh, one more thing,” Pit added, “Please don’t tell Link anything about… what I actually am, okay? He thinks I’m just some normal person, and… I’m not ready for that to change.”

“Then you’d better not tell him anything about me, either,” DP countered.

“You mean, how you’re a--”

“ _ Yes, _ that is exactly what I mean.”

They both stared at each other for a moment.

DP then waved his hand in the air. “Well. That’s all I have to say. You can go now…” Pit was still staring at him, with his stupid, unassuming eyes. “If you want to go. I don’t care.”

Without another word, Pit stood up, grabbed his bag, slung it around his shoulder, then turned around to walk off. But he stopped, for a moment, as if realizing he’d forgotten something.

“Glad to see you’re okay,” he said, turning back over his shoulder, with a gentle smile on his face.

And once again, he was gone.

Then came the anticipated adrenaline crash; DP sighed, resting his head in his hands. 

All of this was odd. So very odd. Pit had said he’d been tasked with joining the NFC, but he’d also said he was stalling for time… stalling for what? Trying to put off the end of the world until as late as possible? He’d said it himself, nothing either of them did would do much of anything to get in the way of the cosmic plan. Surely, that wasn’t it.

In the end, Pit’s reasons didn’t matter. Ninten Fight Club  _ was _ going to stop the end of the world. DP’s plans were so much greater than Pit-- or his stupid, nosey goddess-- could ever know.

Stupid Pit and his stupid goddess. Stupid, stupid. Pit didn’t even know he could go against her wishes. So happy to be a lap-dog, too stagnant to realize how badly he was always getting strung around. If he’d wanted it a little harder, Pit could simply join the NFC without pulling off all this manipulative bullshit.

The cheese fries had gone unnoticed. So much for a peace offering.

DP wasn’t even hungry enough to touch them.

\----

**Mon, Oct 28, 5:28 pm**

**zelders** : Are you making good progress on your Halloween costume?

**handsoffmykakariko** : i guess so

**zelders** : That’s good!

**zelders** : I can’t be Aragorn without my Legolas.

**handsoffmykakariko** : ok i have a migraine right now. not really in the mood for talking

**zelders** : Oh. Still?

**handsoffmykakariko** : yeah it got worse

**handsoffmykakariko** : it always gets worse

**handsoffmykakariko** : cant go two hours without my head pounding like a hydraulic press these days

**zelders** : Well, if it’s a recurring thing…

**zelders** : And it sounds like it is…

**zelders** : Maybe you should go see a doctor about it?

**handsoffmykakariko** : no i took some aspirin ill be ok

**zelders** : If you say so.

**zelders** : You’d better get off your phone, though. Blinding white light isn’t going to help much.

**handsoffmykakariko** : yes maam

The migraines were certainly a problem. Over the past week, they’d vaulted from being a slight nuisance into something actually concerning. None of the painkillers he’d been downing seemed to be doing anything, though, so Link was cursed to be stuck in headache land at all times.

At this rate, he’d probably have to miss school tomorrow. He could barely even force himself out of bed to do his homework. Hopefully it would all die down by Thursday.

He and Zelda always made a big stink about Halloween, elaborately dressing up and reveling in the spooky spirit of the season. This year, they were going as some characters from Lord of the Rings, Zelda’s latest literary (and cinemagraphic) obsession. Link had never read the books, but he’d seen the movies during an all-night marathon with her one weekend. Zelda told him he’d look just like Legolas if he wore his hair down. Link asserted that no, he’d look like a greasebag, and Legolas was way more attractive than he’d ever be.

This year, Meggy insisted that everyone in the NFC haul ass over to Marth Lowell’s nauseatingly large mansion, where he always held a Halloween party that was supposed to rival all other parties in the history of parties-- in her words, at least. 

Link wasn’t exactly looking forward to the inevitable teenage revelry, or the massive, deafening crowd; but if all his friends were going, he had no choice but to follow them.

Unless his throbbing head put a stop to that.

He wasn’t all that tired, but sleeping felt like the only thing Link had energy to do at this point. So he flopped over, a plastic bag of ice fruitlessly held against his skull, and closed his eyes.

…

A strange forest, blinding blue lights shining directly into his eyes. A giant, towering individual in flowing green, head in the dark sky surrounded by a swarm of hands and glowing orbs, loomed from above.

_ Link. _

You talking to me?

_ Listen to me. _

Get out of my head.

_ Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link -- _

What?

_ Listen. _

I’m listening now. What--

_ Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link Link  _

_ Are you listening? _

...Yes.

_ Find it, then. _

Find what?

_ You should KNOW, shitbag. _

I don’t--

_ Find it find it _

_ Find it NOW _

…

Damn it, how was he supposed to fall asleep with  _ that _ playing on repeat in his subconscious mind?

He knew what the mysterious, disembodied voice in his mind wanted: the sword. Why else would he have this recurring dream?

The sword had better show up soon. Link wasn’t sure how much more of this nonsense he’d be able to take.

\----

Tuesday, October 29th, 2019. Two hundred and forty-six days out.

Kirby was worried.

When he was worried, he liked to sit outside, underneath the night sky that was so familiar to him; his home was all around him, after all.

Just a few hours earlier, a hand had descended from that very same sky. It was unlike any of the others that had done the same.

Master Hands were a counterpart to Crazy Hands, Kirby supposed. But while Crazy Hands were plentiful, chaotic, expendable, Master Hands were fewer, strategic, and calculative. They were fearsome, and any situation where they showed up meant that Galeem and Dharkon were serious.

Ninten Fight Club had taken down one such Master Hand that afternoon.

Kirby and DP had exchanged worried glances with each other, but they decided not to let the others know of the… concerning implications.

When would another Master Hand come down out of this sky? Or, when would a whole army of them arrive, intent on wiping his friends’ faces clean off the planet?

“Pinky?”

Kirby turned from his viewpoint in the backyard.

It was Dedede, sticking his head out of the screen door. “You doin’ alright?”

“Not really… I’m kind of nervous, I guess,” Kirby admitted, shrugging his shoulders.

Dedede wandered over, sitting down right next to him in the grass. “What’s got your mind turnin’ tonight?” he asked, putting an arm around Kirby to let him lean against his large body.

Kirby sighed. “There was a Master Hand earlier today… and now I’m afraid that Galeem’s gonna start coming after all my friends, because why else would he send one?”

“I dunno.”

“Exactly!” he exclaimed, crossing his arms frenetically. “I want to protect them, but I’m not sure that I even can.”

Dedede pondered for a moment, stroking his chin. “Well… y’all took down the one from today pretty easy, right?”

“I guess.”

“Then you’ve got nothin’ to be afraid of, Pinky. Who’s to say you couldn’t take down a jillion of those brainless minions?”

“But there’s a difference between one guy and a hundred guys. And they’re actually pretty smart.”

“Bah. You outsmart one, you outsmart the whole bunch. Besides,” he looked down to meet Kirby’s deep blue, wide eyes, “You’re a feisty little guy. They ain’t got nothin’ on you. Plus, you’ve got Iris, an’ Rosalina, an’ all those other Fight Club kids to back you up.”

It was true-- Kirby was a Star Warrior, Rosalina was a goddess, DP was an angel, and everyone else knew how to pack a punch. They were strong, together, even if the odds were a bit scary.

Dedede patted him on the back. “Don’t worry, Kirbs. I believe in you,” he winked.

He hugged Dedede back, trying to wrap his tiny arms around his big torso. 

“Thank you,” he murmured, into the folds of his red coat.

“Anytime, Kirby.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so originally, Ness was going to be playing Minecraft in his segment of the chapter... but guess who got confirmed for Smash between me writing and posting this :[  
> I guess Steve exists in this universe now. 
> 
> \----  
> thanks for reading! -- updates are mondays for the foreseeable future.


	20. XIX. Halloween Part I: The Social Anxiety Shuffle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> right foot, left stomp!
> 
> \----

October 31st, 2019. Two hundred and forty-four days out.

Ninten Academy may have been full of smart and talented teenagers, but that certainly didn’t stop the student body from going absolutely balls-off-the-walls crazy from time to time. Case in point: the Lowells’ annual Halloween Party, hosted courtesy of Marth, the theater kid, son of the most filthy-rich couple in this whole suburban town.

Said filthy-rich couple ‘coincidentally’ decided to go on a getaway during the weekend this party took place. They left Thursday morning, leaving nobody in the house except for Marth himself.

The Halloween Party invitation had always been extended to every student at the school. This time was no different; a large chunk of the student population made their way over to Marth’s gargantuan mansion, ready to lose it in typical teenage fashion, school Halloween Hootenanny be damned. 

The NFC decided to make an appearance-- or, rather, Meggy convinced the rest of them to show up with her, with varying degrees of enthusiasm. They’d made a pact to try and stick together, but… yeah, that didn’t entirely work out, considering that half its members had separate social lives outside of the confines of DP’s warehouse.

Here is what everyone decided to wear:

Obviously, Zelda and Link dressed as Aragorn and Legolas. Link still had a _killer_ migraine, but forced himself to come anyways. He’d spent far too long planning his outfit with Zelda to bail on her now.

Meggy went all-out, designing a many-tentacled costume of Cthulhu with every ounce of the mediocre sewing skills she had. You could hardly even tell it was her, from the giant bulbous shape covering her head; but if you knew what Meggy was like, you’d immediately know it could be no one but her rocking the Eldritch squid outfit.

Ness and Lucas decided to go as each other… a brilliant idea they’d come up with literally the day before. This confused people all night long, even though the temporary black hair dye Lucas had smothered his head in wasn’t convincing in the slightest.

Akira wasn’t going as anything in particular-- rather, he used the excuse of the holiday to dress up in some ridiculous masquerade ball costume. He was stunning in it. He also spent the whole night dodging tipsy suitors who thought the same.

Shulk-- remember him? Way back in chapter eleven?-- was there, too, dressed up in a pretty legitimate looking Iron Man costume he’d made himself. He spent the whole night dodging Akira’s advances, to his annoyance.

DP could not be bothered to give two shits about Halloween. He just showed up to the party in sweatpants and a grey hoodie, insisting that he was a stoner. Meggy thought it was the most uninspired thing she’d ever seen, but handed him a rolled-up Post-It note to use as a joint anyways.

Pit wasn’t really sure about the whole Halloween thing, though, so he decided to heed Palutena’s advice and go for something iconic: a black cat, complete with whiskers and a nose created from dollar-store lipstick. It was probably the most amount of black he’d ever worn in his life, and he was suddenly reminded of the reason why he never wore the color in the first place.

He completely blended in. And that was going to be a problem, considering how bustling the Lowell’s dining room was when he stepped into the room. People flitted about, and he could hear a million different conversations happening at once. The music was blaring, the room was decorated with gaudy streamers and paper cut-outs of bats, and it smelled very strongly of chocolate bars and alcohol. It was… a lot. And a lot made him feel uneasy.

By some miracle, he and Link managed to spot each other in the crowd almost immediately. So Pit stuck close to him for the first part of the party.

It was clear from the beginning that his friend wasn’t doing too hot. The two of them leaned against a wall in the back of the giant dining room, and Pit stood there, watching Link clutch his head as if it were about to explode.

“...You doing okay?” he stuttered, having to raise his voice to be heard over the blasting tunes.

“Yes,” Link cringed. The pain was evident on his face. It was a bold lie.

“Need me to get… uh… a Tylenol? An Aspirin? A, uh… Pepto Bismol?” Pit asked, running through the short list of human painkillers he knew of.

“No, I’m okay. You go have fun with the others,” Link forced out.

Now, Pit wasn’t about to do that. He didn’t really know anyone else here, and the few folks that he did know were preoccupied. There was Shulk, but he was already busy standing around and chatting with Zelda. There was also Akira, but for one, he terrified Pit with his aloof presence, and two, he was a little bit busy trying to make the moves on a very disgruntled Shulk.

Meggy was… uh. She’d probably had something to drink by this point, based on how wild things were going in the center of the room. And Ness and Lucas were in the basement, taking part in a high-stakes pool tournament.

...Yeah, Pit was fine standing here with Link. Who had... slid to the ground, head resting on top of his knees, all the gel in his Legolas hair starting to crack with how much he’d been pulling on it in an attempt to alleviate his headache. 

He should wear his hair down like that more often, Pit thought, even if the ponytail was supposed to be a homage to Rockarina or whatever. It was… really pretty, like that.

He suddenly felt like the world’s biggest idiot, clinging around Link in his dumb black clothes, with cheap makeup smeared all over his face. Link clearly wanted him to go, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do that one simple thing.

Minutes passed. From his vantage point, Pit observed a number of things: the glass punch bowl getting knocked over, some couple making out in a corner of the room, Marth showing off his dance moves to a gathering crowd, the Bluetooth speaker getting hijacked by a small girl with big, curly pink hair.

Even louder music started blaring. Link held his hands over his ears.

“Hey, uh, Link, if it’s that bad, we can go outside-- Pit began, before getting cut off by… Link shouting. Perhaps the first time he’d ever heard him speak that loudly.

“GET OUT OF MY HEAD!”

“Uh, Link, a-are you okay?”

But Link paid no attention to Pit’s frantic tone of voice. He just sat there, on the floor, retreating further into his knees. He hissed through his teeth.

“Seriously, Link, let’s, uh, go out on the porch or something!” He tried to grab Link’s wrist to get him on his feet, but Link forcefully wrangled it out of Pit’s grasp, before screaming at the top of his lungs.

“AGH!”

He jolted to his feet, and dashed out of the house.

It was kind of terrifying. Pit tried to chase after him, heart frantically pounding out of his chest, pushing through the thick crowd. What the heck was happening? “W-wait! Where are you… going...”

All eyes were on him, standing alone in the center of the room. His friend was long gone. He froze, wanting to retreat back into the shadows of the far wall, but everyone was staring, confused as to what the hell had just happened, right at him, what was he doing, what was Link doing?

Meggy patted his back. He jumped in surprise.

“What’s his deal?” she asked, pointing down the hall towards the front door. “You scare him off or something?”

“I-I have… no idea. I thought it was just a headache, but then he yelled, and left.”

“Psh. Lightweight,” Meggy smirked.

Another song came on. Everyone cheered. The pink-haired girl stood on the table, hands held around her mouth. “ALRIGHT! Who’s ready to get funky?”

“Hell yeah!” Meggy shouted back. “DJ Puff, let’s GOOOOOOO!”

“Meggy, w-what’s going on?” Pit asked, frantic, and completely confused.

“It’s the Cha Cha Slide!”

“What’s _that?_ ”

Meggy’s eyes blew wide open. “You’re _seventeen_ , and you’ve _never_ heard the Cha Cha Slide before? What kind of sad life have you been living, man?”

“I-I don’t know!”

“Just do what the song tells you to do! To the left!” And everyone in the room moved to the left, and then they took it back now, y’all. Pit just stood there, not processing the lyrics, not processing Meggy’s explanation, eyes still intensely trained on the front door.

Link had left the premises, hadn’t he? Maybe that was for the best… maybe someone had spiked that punch bowl he’d gotten a drink out of, and he couldn’t handle it. Yeah. That’s probably what that was. 

Why not just try to enjoy the party without him? That’s what Link had wanted Pit to do, anyways.

_Cha cha real smooth!_

Aaaagh… he needed to get out of this room.

Meggy tried to yell him back over to her, but Pit wasn’t listening; he took off down the hall, in hopes of finding other friends in some quieter spaces.

No luck in the basement. The pool tournament was still going strong, with a large group of people gathered tightly around the table, shouting like crazed men in a packed sports stadium. Ness and Lucas didn’t even notice Pit peeping his head out from the stairwell.

Zelda was in the kitchen, chatting it up with a group of people Pit didn’t even know.

What about Shulk? He wasn’t with Zelda. Maybe he was somewhere with the rest of the tech crew? If they were even here to begin with?

He slunk through the house, quickly stepping into every room on the main level. Then on the upper level, too, where it seemed like a few people had retreated for some peace. 

Shulk’s voice resounded through the end of the hall, coming out of some bedroom. Hopeful, Pit scurried over, leaning into the doorway.

“...And my stupid parents, they don’t care about me at all, but they still want me home for the summer. Like, Bayo cares for me, way more than you two douchebags ever will. But they don’t understand.”

“It is kind of hard, not having parents to care about you… but you have _some_ family that does, right? Like, I have Riki, and you’ve got this, ah, Aunt Bayonetta of yours. They’re the ones that actually matter.”

Pit quickly retreated to the wall right outside the room. Weren’t Shulk and Akira literally at each other’s throats just an hour ago? What were they doing here?

“...Did you hear something, Akira?”

“It’s probably some wasted kid stumbling around. Don’t worry about it.”

Get away get away get away!

Well, that was it for people he knew. Nobody was left. Pit was completely alone at a massive high-school party. Just like the movies; except it wasn’t the movies, and there wasn’t some nice guy to show up and whisk him away somewhere calmer.

His breathing hitched as he returned to the main room; some other song came on, and everybody started yelling the words and jumping around like a swarm of insane fleas. The air was stuffy, the scent of spilled fruit punch and disgustingly adolescent sweat permeating the space.

He needed to get out. _Now._

Thank the gods nobody was outside, he thought, wrenching open the sliding glass door on the back wall. No, scratch that, there was somebody leaning over the railing of the patio balcony--

Oh no, not him, not right now, just go back inside, quietly. Get out. 

Too late. The person on the balcony turned, noticing the sound of Pit’s staggered breathing, and red eyes met blue once again.

DP just waved. “Hey.”

“H-heya.”

A minute of silence passed. DP watched on as Pit attempted to get his bearings.

“What brings you out here to my wonderful porch?”

“It’s… a lot in there.”

“Tell me about it.”

For some uncontrollable reason, Pit found himself walking over to the balcony, leaning over it a few feet away from DP. He didn’t protest.

“So… what are you dressed up as?” Pit impulsively asked, almost tripping over his words.

“A stoner.”

“Ah.”

“You know what that is, right?”

“Do I-- of course I know what a stoner is!”

Pit flinched a bit, underneath DP’s scrutinizing gaze. “...And I guess you’re a cat?” he asked, after another moment of silence.

“Yep.”

He smirked, knowingly. “Your whiskers are all smudged. Thought you should know.”

Great. He’d been walking around looking like an oblivious idiot for a while, then. “Thanks for… pointing that out?”

“I’ve got eyeliner in my bag, if you want me to go get it…”

An oddly nice gesture, for someone that was apparently distrustful of him. “I-it’s fine,” Pit interrupted. “I don’t really think I’m gonna go back in there anytime soon.”

“Uh huh?”

“Too many people. And it smells bad. And Link… kinda left me hanging, to be honest. He screamed, and ran off. I have no clue where he went,” he sighed, resting his head in his hands.

“What about everyone else? They like you. I’m sure they’d all be thrilled to party all night if you joined them,” DP grunted.

“No, they like _you_ . They just think I’m weird. Plus, they’re all busy with other people.” Pit paused for a moment. “Why are _you_ out here, Pittoo?”

DP cringed.

“I-I, uh, I mean, DP?”

“Parties aren’t my thing. But _somebody_ had to give Meggy a ride over. And somebody’s going to have to take her back, ‘cause she’s clearly too pounded to be able to do that on her own at this point,” he stated, rolling his eyes. “So I’m just waiting.”

“Oh.” Pit looked down off the balcony, observing the giant backyard below, populated by various party-goers taking a break from the chaos inside. “Do you… want me to leave you alone, then?”

DP shrugged. “It’s fine. Stay if you want. Or go, I really don’t care.”

And again, a few minutes of silence passed. DP absentmindedly tapped on the balcony railing with his fingers. Pit rubbed a thumb against his face, attempting to figure out how badly the lipstick had smudged. Some redhead kid burst outside for a moment to vomit in the corner, before dashing back inside. 

“So… how’d you meet Link?” DP eventually spoke up.

Pit blinked. Was this going to turn into some kind of interrogation? He wasn’t ready for the stress of being questioned by his counterpart right now. If it was anything like last Friday at the pizza place, he’d probably end up puking like that kid a couple minutes ago. “W-why do you ask?” he stuttered, instinctively reaching to defensively shove his hands in pockets that weren’t there on unfamiliar black pants.

“Just kinda curious. I figured it was all kinda planned out by Palutena, but maybe not.”

“I guess it was,” he began, thinking, “but then we just kept on running into each other coincidentally. He says he likes kicking around with me, and I like him, ‘cause he doesn’t think I’m an idiot.” 

The last part was a bit of a jab. DP’s mind was still an enigma to Pit, but he could tell-- at least based off of all their previous conversations-- that was exactly how DP felt about him.

DP hesitated for a second, staring up at the night sky. “Do a lot of people think you’re an idiot?”

“I mean, I kind of am an idiot,” Pit laughed, uncomfortably. “I’m good at brute force, but that’s sort of it. But, you know, that’s okay. I’ve got other people to do all the thinking for me.”

“That’s kind of harsh, Pit.”

“Since when did you care?” he shot back.

“...I don’t know. If you want me to go back to trashing you, I’d be happy to do that,” DP grunted. “Can’t a person just extend a peace greeting after a goddamned millennium?”

Pit faltered, attempting to mumble a response, before trailing back off into silence. There was something clearly different in DP, after all this time. He had better things to do than continue to toss over the same pointless pseudo-rivalry as the two of them had before.

Another moment of silence.

This time, Pit broke it: “How’s life been, I guess?”

“Oh, you know. The usual. Influencing great events in human history. Laughing at the downfall of societies. Going to fucking high school.” 

Going to fucking high school, alright. Both of them started laughing spontaneously at the realization of how _stupid_ their situation really was. “I mean,” DP continued, “How did we even get here?”

“That’s just life, you know? Getting tossed around by weird fate.”

“Tch. Fate’s a dumb concept.”

“Yeah, but it led us here! Who would’ve thought?” Pit exclaimed. “It’s almost the end of the world, and here we are, pretending to be normal kids.”

DP smirked. “ _You’re_ pretending to be normal. Everyone already knows I’m basically a demigod.”

“You sure don’t act like one, though.”

“Well, then. Since you’re obviously the authority on this subject, how _should_ a demigod act?”

“For starters, I don’t think they’d walk around in a hoodie while eating a sticky note,” Pit teased, gesturing to DP’s half-hearted Halloween costume.

“I don’t think they’d dress up as a cat, either.”

“Touché.”

“Black’s not your color, Pit. You’re ripping off my style again,” DP remarked, crossing his arms. “Even if it is ‘thematically appropriate’ for the holiday or whatever.”

“Speaking of ripping people off… Why'd you name yourself DP? Since you said you were ‘nothing like me,’ or whatever.” 

Pit sort of immediately regretted asking the question, as the witty half-grin on DP’s face faded.

“You know, I’ve been calling myself a bunch of things before. DP’s just kind of what I fall back on when I’m not feeling original enough to come up with anything else. Of course, it figures that _you_ decide to show up when I start going by that again,” he admitted, looking back down at the ground below the balcony.

“I see,” Pit mused. “Bad timing on my part, then.”

“For sure. I’m surprised that nobody’s caught on, yet. We even look pretty similar, after all this time,” DP shrugged. “ _Also_ bad timing on your part.”

“I don’t think we look the same at all! For starters, you dress like an emo. I look like…”

“A pollyanna,” he filled in, smirking once more.

“Yeah, see? Not wearing palette swap outfits anymore makes a _huge_ difference, DP. Plus, your hair’s way shorter than mine, and you wear those shoes with the platforms that give you, like, two whole inches on me. And you’re always wearing eyeliner--“

“Just-- call me Pittoo.”

“What was that?”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m never going to get used to you calling me DP. It just sounds completely wrong. BUT--” he continued, holding up a hand before Pit could inevitably interrupt, “Only when we’re alone. I don’t want to hear any Pittoos or Ptooeys or Pit-stains or what-have-you when anybody else in the NFC is around, got it?”

“Pretty sure Pit-stain was _my_ nickname, actually,” Pit chuckled. 

“Don’t care. If I hear it around anyone else, you’re toast.”

“Okay, okay, whatever you want.”

It was their familiar ribbing. Just like before, as if nothing had really changed between the two of them.

Pit knew that was a lie, though. Things _had_ changed, and in spite of the niceties, the two of them were still at odds with each other in every way imaginable. DP’s cynical wittiness may have stayed the same-- it was in his personality, it was just how he was-- but his goals certainly hadn’t. He had his own life, his own friends, his own home. He was probably just entertaining Pit’s blathering for old times’ sake, or to establish some kind of truce between the two of them.

There was no significance to Pittoo, really. Just a dumb nickname to let Pit use, keeping him squared away in DP’s irrelevant past.

The doors to the patio slid open. Meggy came stumbling out, Cthulhu costume askew, classic red Solo cup in hand. “Hey, boys,” she slurred, walking over to the balcony and situating herself right in the space between the two angels. “Come back inside! We’re having a baller time, and you’re missing all of it.”

“Yeah, because _that,_ ” DP drawled, gesturing towards the utter madness in the house, “Is a ‘baller time.’ Count me the fuck out.”

Meggy poked DP in the arm. “You are _zero fun!_ How ‘bout you, Pit?”

Pit glanced off awkwardly to the side. “You know, I think I’m gonna head out now. It’s getting kinda late, and I’m kinda tired…”

“You got a ride home?”

“Yeah, I’ll just take the bus.”

She narrowed her eyes. “What? You trying to get assaulted or something? Public transportation at midnight is hella sketchy.”

“Pit is perfectly capable of handling himself on a bus at midnight. Trust me,” DP butted in, winking at Pit. “Let him go.”

“Fiiiiine,” Meggy pouted. “Have fun being a lame-ass back at home with your momma! DP, you’re coming with me.” With that, she grabbed DP by the wrist with her empty hand, and began to stumble back inside.

Pit stifled a laugh as the two of them marched off, but not before DP glanced back at him over his shoulder. “Guess I’ll see you around, Pit-stain,” he smirked.

For old times’ sake.

“Pit-stain? That’s fucking hilarious!” he heard Meggy cackle, as he walked down the porch stairs to the ground level.

What an absolute waste of three hours of his life. He didn’t even leave with any strong feelings about the absolute bullshit that had just occurred. Except… well, he never figured out what happened to Link, after he’d blitzed off. Hopefully, he was alright?

It’d be good to check, though.

**Thurs, Oct 31, 11:47 pm**

**theicaruskid** : link?

**theicaruskid** : u ok?

**theicaruskid** : after u left the party

**theicaruskid** : thats what i mean

**handsoffmykakariko** : LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK 

**theicaruskid** : shold i b woried

**theicaruskid** : bc thats worying

**handsoffmykakariko** : LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK 

Oh, yikes. That was _not_ normal. 

...What the heck was happening?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok ok ok ok I'm going to finally explain myself sdfghjkjhga
> 
> so this whole thing arose a while ago out of this idiotic joke between my sister and I that the ship name for Link and Pit would be Lit. She one-upped that with the ship name for Shulk and Joker: Shakira. (because Joker's hips don't lie)  
> At some point we did this one-shot challenge in the middle of the night where we had to write [a double date](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23429584) between the four of them.  
> It was all supposed to be ironic. It really was.  
> Now I'm nose-deep in crack-ship purgatory.  
> Send help.
> 
> \----  
> thanks for reading! -- updates are mondays for the foreseeable future.


	21. XX. Halloween Part II: The Haunting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello?
> 
> hello?
> 
> hello?
> 
> are you there?
> 
> you're there. good.
> 
> took you long enough to make it here. i mean, 66,000k already? talk about one hell of an excessive word count. 
> 
> but it's no matter. i'm here now. and i'm not going away. 
> 
> \----

October 31st, 2019. Two hundred and forty-- aw,  _ FUCK THIS! _

_ LINK LINK LINK LINK HEY HELLO _

The day started out alright. He’d gone to school with a killer headache, but at least the voice from his surreal dreams left him alone.

And then they didn’t. All day, in his head, over and over again, never changing their message. 

It was terrifying.

_ LINK LINK LINK LINK. LISTEN TO ME. _

He listened, but their words remained unchanged.

He’d dragged himself off to Marth Lowell’s Halloween Party. He’d promised Zelda he’d go, after all, and he wasn’t about to become the asshole of the century by ditching her after all the effort they’d put into their costumes. It was their last Halloween together before the both of them got separated by college. Or killed by the apocalypse. It would be fine, he told himself, he could stay with Zelda for a few minutes, and then go find a quiet corner to sit in as soon as she found some other friends to chat with.

_ LISTEN TO ME. _

Pit was there, at his side, asking if he needed to leave. No, he didn’t. No, there was no need to break up everyone else’s perfectly good time.

It was unbearable. It was a coalescing of every single migraine and weird dream he’d had over the past month, all at once, concentrated in this very moment, like his brain was about to blow apart into a million tiny fragments.

_ LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK  _

He wasn’t in his right mind anymore.

“GET OUT OF MY HEAD!” he yelled, to no effect. The voice kept on growing, increasingly demanding.

_ FIND IT FIND IT FIND IT  _ **_NOW_ **

That was it. The razor sharp pain reached the peak of its crescendo, pouring out all at once in a maddening downpour. 

“AGH!”

He didn’t know where his feet were carrying him anymore, body seeming to operate by the rules of someone else. Probably whoever was screeching in his head. Hopping onto his motorcycle, parked in the very back of the Lowells’ giant driveway, he began to drive. Where? He didn’t know.

_ YES. GOOD. YOU’RE GOING. THIS IS GOOD. _

Please, shut up, shut up, shut up, where are you taking me?

_ GO GO GO FASTER. FASTER. RIGHT NOW. _

I can’t-- I don’t- I don’t even know where I’m going, I can’t even think straight right now.

The streets blurred by. All the lights turned into streaks of color as he squinted his eyes, attempting to relieve some of the ratcheting pain in his head. 

_ FASTER LINK. FASTER _

“Holy shit, I’m going as fast as possible!” he seethed. “ _ What _ do you want with me?”

_ You’re here. _

The Bolson Construction Company’s junkyard. Where he’d found the very motorcycle he had just parked in the adjacent lot. What was he doing here?

_ GO GO INSIDE NOW. FIND IT. _

Before he could even attempt to protest, he was jumping the chain-link fence. With what little shreds of consciousness he had left, he noticed Mr. Bolson himself, standing around in his office. Hopefully he wouldn’t mind an intruder.

_ GO GO GO GO GO FIND IT NOW LINK. GO GO NOW. _

Find what?

_ THE SWORD _

_ THE SWORD THE SWORD THE SWORD THE SWORD THE SWORD THE SWORD THE SWORD THE SWORD THE SWORD THE SWORD THE SWORD THE SWORD THE SWORD THE SWORD THE SWORD THE SWORD THE SWORD THE SWORD IT IS HERE _

So it was in here somewhere, and the voice was becoming more frantic, and he began to stumble around in complete darkness, searching through piles of metal for something, anything, cutting his hands on dangerously sharp scraps--

_ LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK  _

_ LOOK HARDER NOW NOW NOW NOW NOW _

One pile, in the very back of the junkyard.

A stifling wave of…  _ weird vibes _ suddenly crashed over him.

_ YES YES GO GO GO GO FIND IT. _

_ THE SWORD _

_ THE SWORD THE SWORD THE SWORD THE SWORD THE SWORD THE SWORD THE SWORD THE SWORD THE SWORD THE SWORD THE SWORD THE SWORD THE SWORD THE SWORD THE SWORD THE SWORD THE SWORD THE SWORD IT IS HERE IT IS HERE IT IS HERE IT IS HERE  _

_ IT IS HERE IT IS HERE  _

_ IT IS HERE IT IS HERE  _

_ RIGHT HERE  _

_ RIGHT NOW _

He reached out to something unidentifiable, yet completely familiar at the same time, buried in that pile. 

And the cacophony of every sensation he’d been experiencing slammed into him, all at once.

_ GRAB THE SWORD LINK. _

_ THE SWORD HOLY SHIT _

_ TAKE IT  _

_ TAKE IT NOW _

_ LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK  _

_ LINK LINK _

_ LIKN LINKIKMLNLKMLINKLK _

_ AJKOISUOJLIKNLSLIHLAKHLKKIJNLKNOJNLKNLILKLJHLJHBKJVKHBJKINLKILK _

_ KJNLIJKNHLJNOIJ _

_ LKI _

_ KJKKKKKKKKK _

_ AAAAAAAAAAA _

**_TAKE IT NOW!_ **

Oh, God, vibes vibes vibes vibes vibes vibes vibes vibes vibes vibes vibes vibes vibes vibes vibes vibes vibes vibes vibes vibes vibes vibes vibes vibes vibes vibes VIBES--

Everything went dark.

\----

“Get up.”

Well, if he was being asked to, he supposed he should.

Observing his surroundings, he found he was in… mostly darkness, save for a few luminescent green trees dotting the landscape.

His head had stopped pounding. The vibes had worn off. And the voice in his brain had gone silent.

Probably because the source of the voice was now floating directly in front of him. 

“Took you long enough,” they grunted, in the same demanding tone of voice he was all too familiar with, extending a very small, glowing hand. “But hey. If the methods work, they work.”

Link took their hand, looking up to their face for the first time. So  _ this _ is who had been haunting his mind subconsciously for the past month or so: some tiny blue fairy.

“Don’t even bother to introduce yourself, I’ve got a lot to cover here, and I already know who you are. Link Wilden, seventeen, teenage has-been. That’s you,” the fairy continued.

“That’s… great,” he said, narrowing his eyes in insulted confusion. “And you are…”

“Navi. Fairy of the Golden Goddesses, and also the guardian of this sword you’re holding.”

Oh. He was, indeed, holding a sword.  _ The _ sword. The one that’s supposed to cause a singularity in the center of everything.

“Now, as I said, I’ve got a shit ton of stuff to tell you, so don’t say anything and listen up--”

“Are you with Galeem and Dharkon?” Link blurted out, without thinking.

This seemed to surprise Navi, and she blinked in surprise, business-like expression faltering. “You… know about those two already? Who told you?”

“An angel...”

“Of _ course _ it was an angel,” she scoffed. “Those stupid chicken-winged motherfuckers are always getting in the way of things. I hope they all die in a fire someday.”

Oh, ha. As far as Link was concerned, they  _ were _ all dead, except for DP. Did this Navi person not know what had happened?

Navi glared down at him. “What  _ else _ do you know?”

“Well, this sword’s supposed to destroy everything… and I’m supposed to make it do that… and then I’ll die when it does. And then all the energy’s supposed to make a new universe.”

“Ah. This just makes my job easier, then,” she huffed. “If you already know your intended purpose, then I’ll just tell you mine: long story short, I’m gonna train you to use this thing. It’s why I’m trapped in this stupid sword to begin with.”

“We’re in a sword?”

“Mmm...More like, I’m astral projecting into your mind.”

Ah, yes. Because that made sense. Along with all the other crazy nonsense that had happened to him in the past twenty-four hours.

“I don’t really think I need your help, though… the angel I mentioned earlier? He’s already training me,” Link admitted, hoping to kick Navi out of his brain and never interact with her obnoxiously demanding voice ever again.

“Stupid angels always jobbing me out, I tell you! A billion years of waiting around in this sword, just to get my  _ one duty _ taken away from me!” she groaned, pulling on her hair. 

“That… sucks?” Link offered.

“Oh, you don’t know what ‘sucky’ is until you’ve gone through the bullshit I’ve gone through, Link. You know, I used to roam the universe! All of it was mine, all I ever had to do was make sure this dumbass sword made it to the wielder on time. But no, the minute you do  _ one thing _ out of line, Daddy Galeem decides to trap you in here forever!” she ranted, crossing her arms, no longer really caring about debriefing Link.

“What did you do?”

“Me and the last wielder tried to stop the end of the world at the end of the last iteration. But Galeem didn’t like that. So now I’m stuck here, alone forever! And it sucks!”

...Super comforting. Especially given that he was trying to do what Navi and this other wielder had failed at doing in the past. “Uh, what happened to the other wielder, if you’re stuck here?” Link asked, morbidly curious. 

“What do you think, shitbag? He did what he was destined to do, and died. Kaput. Legend says his obliterated guts are still floating around in the edges of this universe,” she said, punctuating her point with a sarcastic flourish of her hands.

A pit dropped in his stomach.

It was inevitable, it was terrifying, it was unfair. The reality of everything suddenly fell down upon him like a crane load full of bricks. He was here, with a servant of the gods— not an ex-servant, like DP, or a nice one, like Kirby, a literal servant trying to do her job, subliminally preparing him for his role in his brain. And there was no way to stop it; look at how  _ that _ turned out for the last guys who tried to rise up? Utter failure. 

He’d suffered a month of incessant headaches and sleepless nights for…  _ this. _

“Why did you pick me, then?” Link eventually spoke up, hesitantly looking at the blade in his hands. “Over literally anyone else.”

Navi shrugged. “Oh, I have no idea. I’m not in charge of that. If you’re really that curious, take it up with Farore. Good luck actually getting to her, though! She wouldn’t touch this god-awful planet with a lightyear-long pole.”

“Farore?”

“One of the Golden Goddesses I mentioned earlier. She’s responsible for all life in the universe. There’s also Din and Nayru, but… who actually gives a shit about them?” she explained, gritting her teeth.

Maybe the selection was… random, he reasoned. That would be the most comfortable explanation. It would be a completely unfair coincidence, but just that: nothing more than sheer coincidence. Maybe this Farore goddess-person simply did not care. 

“I certainly don’t blame her, though. This iteration sucks ass. And I’m not just saying that because I spent all of it alone in this sword,” Navi continued. “Maybe I’ll even get booted out of here by the energy blast when you end it all. Wouldn’t that be great? I’d escape off to some new, unpopulated planet, claim it as my own, and then Farore could find some stupid angel to do my job for me.”

Navi really didn’t shut up, did she? Link had, quite frankly, had enough of her talking to last an entire lifetime. “Look, that’s great for you, Navi,” he cringed, “But can you just tell me what I need to do? I’m… tired. I’d like to go home and sleep.”

“Yeah, you look like you need it,” she observed. 

“No thanks to you.”

“HEY! How  _ else  _ was I supposed to get you to come find me? I’m not exactly mobile like this.”

Link groaned. “I don’t know… asking me politely, one time. Calling me ‘shitbag’ and keeping me up all night doesn’t exactly make me want to listen to you.”

Navi sneered, but didn’t snap back with a response. 

“...You know what? I don’t care. I just do not care anymore, as long as you never do that again, okay?” he said, exasperation in his voice. “Just tell me what I need to do, and then get out of my head.”

“You think you have some kind of right to boss me around?”

He blinked.

“Trust me, Link. If I wasn’t trapped in this stupid blade, I could kill you on the spot.  _ I’m _ calling the shots here, not  _ you, _ ” Navi snapped, jabbing her tiny index finger into Link’s chest. 

She  _ was  _ a servant to the gods. And if she was anything like DP was… yeah. He’d be dead where he stood.

Geez, what was he getting himself into.

“With that being said,” Navi continued, “You’re going to start seeing a bunch of ginormous hands coming out of nowhere. Don’t be alarmed. They’re just here to help train you to use this stupid sword.”

“They’ve… already started coming. I’ve been killing some of them.”

“Already?”

“Yes.”

Navi put a finger to her chin. “I guess it doesn’t matter, as long as you’re not dead. Galeem’s probably out of the loop since… I can’t fucking  _ talk _ to him anymore! Ugh. Well, Link. you seem like you know what to do already. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go take a nap.”

_ Yes _ , she was finally leaving him alone--

“BUT! I’ll be back, when I need to be. So get ready.”

“Wait, like how? Are you going to haunt my dreams again? Please, anything but that, I can’t take anymore of that--” he sputtered, but then Navi interrupted him once more.

“Nighty-night, shitbag.”

“What?”

She snapped her fingers. 

Everything went black. 

Again. 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that sure is a thing that just happened wahaha
> 
> so it was about when I got to writing this chapter that I realized I maaaay have gotten a bit in over my head. what was originally supposed to be a relatively short fic sort of devolved into this complicated, rambling mess. (for context: I've written into the 30s and I'm still chugging it out with no end in sight.)
> 
> but I promised myself I was going to finish this one way or another, so if you've made it this far, I hope you like it. you're in for the long haul :P
> 
> \----  
> thanks for reading! -- updates are mondays for the foreseeable future.


	22. XXI. I'm getting really tired of all this apocalypse stuff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the day after a party is never a good one.
> 
> \----

November 1st, 2019. Two hundred and forty-three days out.

A giant beam of light went off in the distance around midnight. The half-awake, slightly intoxicated crowd left at Marth’s Halloween party stopped what they were doing and crammed onto the back porch to figure out what the hell had just happened.

DP knew it wasn’t anything good. So, as fast as he could, he grabbed a drunk Meggy by the wrist, ran all the way to his car, and drove straight on to the site of the mysterious lightshow.

There, he found an unconscious Link laying on the dirty ground of the Bolson Construction Junkyard, with… _the_ sword laying right next to him.

“Oh, shit,” was all he said.

He tried to pick up the sword. Touching the hilt just left him with an immediate, painful burn on his fingers. Of course. Guess it had some sort of anti-theft mechanism built into it?

So he sat, for probably a solid hour, waiting for Link to wake up. And when he did, DP helped him stumble back to his car, somehow also getting him to toss the sword into the cluttered trunk.

DP would deal with _that_ mess later. Right now, he had to get his two friends home.

Being the designated driver kind of sucks. But somebody’s gotta do it.

\----

Link slept for a solid eighteen hours as soon as he arrived back at the apartment, dreams thankfully unplagued by the screams of a certain abhorrent blue fairy.

At 7:00 pm, during dinner-- or, breakfast, in his case-- his father confronted him.

“Care to explain why your friend had to drop you off at two in the morning?”

Had… someone done that? Link could hardly recall any of the events of last night. It was still a mushy soup inside his brain.

“I…”

Wait. He couldn’t just tell his father about the… sword thing. He’d probably just assume Link got completely wasted, like the irresponsible teenager he always thought he was.

“I fell asleep. At Marth’s party. I was driven home because… too tired to do it myself without getting killed,” he mumbled.

“And then you slept for eighteen hours?”

“I had a massive migraine, too. Guess I kinda had to sleep it off…”

His father’s stern expression softened, as if he’d forgotten about the chronic headaches that had been plaguing his child for the past month. “Well, are you feeling any better after your big snooze?”

“Better than I have in a while, actually.”

Physically, that is. Mentally? Not so much.

“Take it easy, if you need to,” his father offered. “You still seem pretty wiped out.”

“Yeah,” Link grumbled.

He wolfed down the rest of his cereal, and quickly retreated back to his room.

A thousand thoughts started running through his head as soon as he flopped back down onto his bed. He seemed to have missed school today by sleeping through the whole thing, but chances were, a good chunk of the other students did, as well, probably home with headaches and nausea of their own. Par for the course after Halloween night. 

But, what had actually happened last night… he strained to remember. His migraine had turned into a skull-splitting pain, and then he’d fled the party, leaving Pit all alone.

A nervous shock suddenly went through his head.

Shit. He’d left Pit there, with no one else to hang with. Hopefully, he wasn’t mad at Link. Maybe he could text an apology…

**Thurs, Oct 31, 11:47 pm**

**theicaruskid** : link?

 **theicaruskid** : u ok?

 **theicaruskid** : after u left the party

 **theicaruskid** : thats what i mean

**handsoffmykakariko** : LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK LINK 

What the hell was this? Link certainly didn’t recall spamming his name in their chat over and over again.

...It was Navi. Obviously. 

Man, screw her. This was all her fault.

**Fri, Nov 1, 7:39 pm**

**handsoffmykakariko** : hey pit

 **handsoffmykakariko** : i have no idea whats going on up there with the links on repeat

 **handsoffmykakariko** : but i guess i just want to apologize for totally ditching you last night.

 **handsoffmykakariko** : that was sucky of me.

 **handsoffmykakariko** : sorry

Pit didn’t immediately respond, so Link just set his phone away on his nightstand, feeling his heart race in guilt, letting out one huge sigh.

Not even ten seconds later, his phone buzzed, and his hand instantly jerked out to grab it. Was it him?

**Fri, Nov 1, 7:41 pm**

**ratchorus** : okay folks. we’ve got a hand on the loose. just a crazy one this time though.

 **ratchorus** : please come if you can. but if you’ve got a hangover i understand.

 **ratchorus** : looking at you, meggy.

**inkl1ng** : screw you DP!!!!!!!!

**ratchorus** : sending my location now.

One of the Crazy Hands, coming to train him. Link couldn’t even will himself out of bed to go fight. Would Navi appear in his brain and tell him to do it? Would the hand pursue him? Who even knows anymore.

Yeah, the NFC was all fun and games, until the reality of it all had been put into his mind last night. They weren’t even making a dent in the ‘cosmic plan’ or whatever-- just merely taking down grunts designed for his own combat training. Sure, the rest of them could have their good time, but Link? Here he was, recovering from a migraine, terrified of the voice in his head that would inevitably come back to boss him around some more.

He was getting _really_ tired of all this apocalypse stuff.

\----

November 3th, 2019. Two hundred and forty-one days out.

Zelda, just like many of the other rich kids at Ninten Academy, lived in a giant house; though, hers was considerably more modest than some of the _other_ houses we’ve seen so far.

Link hadn’t been over in ages. Which was weird, considering that before all this fight club nonsense, they were visiting each other after school quite frequently. Guess life had just become busy on both ends.

He’d needed someone to talk to about everything that had just happened. Someone like her: down-to-earth, and always ready to lend an ear. 

He had actually really wanted to talk to Pit, for… some reason. Maybe because he was the one person left with minimal involvement in this apocalypse-scenario, but… Link was still feeling guilty after the Halloween party. Plus, Pit still hadn’t responded to his text, two days later.

Zelda had always been the person he vented to, though. No reason to burden Pit with more of his problems when Zelda already knew every troubling thought that went through his mind.

Mr. Bosphoramus cordially pointed him in the direction of her room upstairs, where Link found her embroiled in some kind of work: papers strewn all over her messy desk, hands absentmindedly pulling on locks of her hair in concentration. Knowing her, it was probably the mountain of homework she’d inevitably been assigned to do over the weekend.

“Hey, Link!” she greeted, spinning around in her swivel chair to meet him. “It’s been _too_ long, hasn’t it?”

He sat down in the wicker chair in the corner of her large room-- the one he always sat in. “I guess it has been a while… sorry about that,” he smiled, a bit sheepishly.

“Oh, it’s no mind. I mean, we see each other all the time, anyways. And we’ve all been busy with school, and college apps-- which, did I mention? I submitted all of mine Friday night! Isn’t that exciting?-- and, also, Ninten Fight Club… now, _that’s_ really sucking up all my time. Speaking of, now that I’m done with all the college crap for now, I’ve been… thinking, about plans, all weekend.”

“Plans for what?” Link asked, hesitantly.

Zelda grabbed her computer, wheeling her chair over to shove it in Link’s face. “Well, DP and I have been talking--”

“You guys have been talking? I thought you hated him--”

“Yes, but not so much anymore, once you get past his… gruffness. As I was saying, we’ve been planning the next steps in stopping the end of the world. Rosalina said we should try talking to Galeem in person, right? So I’ve been writing a script? I guess you could call it that? It’s basically a massive argument making a case for _not_ destroying everything.”

He scrolled to the bottom of the massive document Zelda was displaying on the screen. “Geez, this is… a lot. Of words.”

Zelda shrugged. “Well, of course it is. We can’t exactly go to the so-called ‘ruler’ of this universe with a poorly-synthesized plan, right?”

“R-right.”

Great. So much for getting his mind off of things.

Something else caught his eye on the screen. “Is that… _Shulk_ commenting?” he squinted, looking at the comments on the sidebar. Was he part of this plan now?

“Oh, yeah, I should mention, he and I have actually been collaborating on this, so it’s not _all_ my work,” she chuckled. “See, I asked DP if he could join the NFC; Shulk’s in a bunch of my classes, you know, and he’s very smart. Also studying to go into engineering, actually. Anyways, I advocated for him to join, and then, Akira did, too… which was odd, considering that Shulk kept rejecting him every time Akira tried to hit on him during that party.”

Something about that caused a bitter feeling to rise in his throat. Link bet that DP didn’t make a big stink about how he didn’t ‘trust’ Shulk or something equally unreasonable.

“That’s, uh, really great,” Link forced out. “But isn’t he busy with, you know, tech crew?”

“Oh, not any busier than you and me, Link. Plus, I’m pretty sure what we’re doing is _way_ more important than all of our school nonsense. It’s my big priority right now, at least.”

Since when did Zelda start caring this much…?

Should _he_ be thinking about it at all times, then? DP probably was. Seemed like Zelda was devoting every spare hour she had to it, based off of all the paper drafts of arguments she had laying around the room. If he was as important to the cause as the two of them said he was, then… he was just being flat-out irresponsible.

Ugh.

\----

Sleep. Finally.

Something in front of his closed eyelids was glowing blue. But he was tired, and didn’t particularly care to discover what it was.

Something kicked him in the side. His eyes shot open.

Damn it. He was back in that forest again.

And, even more displeasingly, Navi was fluttering in his face.

“Ah. I see you’re finally awake.”

“Actually, Navi, I’m asleep right now, and I’d like to get back to that.”

“Oh! He’s got a temper!” she mocked. “I figured you’d know better than to diss your superiors?”

Link briefly thought about flicking her away, but decided that might be a bit cruel.

“So,” Navi continued, crossing her arms, “I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m here.”

He didn’t say anything.

She pouted, but plowed on. “I’ll take your silence as yes, in that case. Well, the reason is this: I’m fucking bored.”

“...What do you want me to do about it?”

“Isn’t it obvious? _Entertain_ me, Link.”

He sighed. And then he sighed again. What, was he supposed to be her personal servant, too? How much was he going to get shoved around? If this was going to become a nightly thing, then, well, he’d probably…

Uh.

“Navi, I’m… tired,” he tried to object, but it wasn’t of much use.

“And I’ve spent the last thirteen gazillion years trapped in a sword. Who’s really got it worse here?”

“...You, I guess.”

“Exactly.”

Link took a moment to look over their surroundings. It was thick with these glowing blue trees, stretching out for who-knows-how-far. Unless she liked going for walks… there was legitimately nothing to do.

He gestured out to the lifeless landscape. “Navi, I don’t know what to do. There’s just trees and stuff.”

“Well, don’t you have a talent or something?” she insisted, putting a hand to her chin in thought. “Like singing, or talking, or, uh, juggling, or… like, pantomime? Anything?”

“Not really…”

“Can you do stuff _badly?_ Laughing at you counts at entertainment too, you know.”

“I don’t think I’m that funny, really,” he admitted, trying to get out of whatever self-flagellation Navi wanted to put him through.

“You know what, Link? You’re boring.”

“...I know.”

As if that wasn’t something he considered on the daily.

“I’m leaving. Go back to sleep. This is just a waste of my time,” Navi scoffed. “I’ll be back.”

Good riddance, he thought.

\----

November 4th, 2019. Two hundred and forty days out.

The sword sat in the middle of the warehouse. Everyone crowded around it.

“So… what’s so special about this hunk of metal?” Ness deadpanned, pointing at it. “It just looks like a regular old sword. Which is kind of cool, but DP’s already got a million of them in his magic hammerspace or whatever.”

“Yeah, man. Where’s the divine prominence coming out of the sky with the angelic chorus?” Meggy added.

“First of all, I’m _personally_ attacked by that comment,” DP grumbled, throwing an arm in front of them. “And second? Don’t touch it. Unless you want your hand to look like this.” There was a nasty, peeling burn on his fingers, and Ness cringed. “I can deal with it, but the rest of you are soft, so stay away.”

Link picked it up, feelings its strange weight in his hands, and showing it off to everyone else. “I legitimately have no idea what makes this thing special.” It definitely felt… _weird_ , but not off for a sword, really. Maybe it was just the pretense of knowing what it was capable of doing.

He decided right then that he didn’t really like having it around.

“Maybe it’s ultra durable,” Zelda offered. “So that it can withstand the sheer force of a Big Bang explosion without being obliterated.”

“No, you idiots. It’s just got some magic bullshit that lets it do what it’s supposed to do. Other than that, I imagine it’s pretty normal. With a burn effect as a bonus,” DP huffed. “Now, this isn’t really a game-changer, so everyone, back to work.” With a wave of his hand, he dispersed everyone else back to keep punching each other or whatever it was they were doing before. Link tried to walk away, but DP grabbed his shoulder, turning him around.

“What’s up?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

DP sighed. “I was lying. This is a total game-changer. I just didn’t want to have a conversation with the peanut gallery bursting in every three seconds,” he said, gesturing to the others. “So. How’d you find the sword?”

Link put a hand to his head, recalling. “Well… I had migraines all month, obviously, but they kinda reached their peak during the party. So I ran out, with this voice screaming in my head, not really in control of myself anymore, until I found the sword in the junkyard.”

“A voice?”

“Some fairy… Navi. Said she was a servant of some Farore person, stuck in the sword after trying to stop the last universe from getting destroyed.”

DP paled. “That’s… concerning. Have you heard from her since Thursday?”

“Yeah, last night… but she didn’t have much to say… outside of insulting me. Again.”

For a moment, the two of them were silent, as DP attempted to collect his thoughts. “Okay, look, Link. You’re probably going to be getting some less-than-subliminal messages from this Navi fairy-- heck, maybe even Farore, too-- trying to get you to follow the cosmic plan.” He looked up, intensely, red eyes flaring. “ _Don’t_ listen to them. That’s literally the most important thing I could tell you right now.”

Link faltered, looking down at the ground. “Do you think… they’ll actually be back?”

“Did you really think you’d be getting away with this whole magic destiny thing without the gods trying to exert some kind of influence on you? Get real, Link,” he asserted. “Ninten Fight Club isn’t fun punchy-time for kids. There’s no power of friendship, and being the chosen one _sucks_. It’s real shit.”

“That’s… unfair!” Link exclaimed. And it was! How could he be expected to deal with all of this crap?

DP put a hand on his shoulder. “It _is_ unfair! Complain all you want, you deserve it. You’ve got the short end of the stick, at least… compared to the rest of us.” His expression softened. “And… you know, when shit’s unfair, you just kinda have to deal.”

“Easier said than done,” he mumbled.

“And, hey. Take a break, if you need to. Me and Zelda have things covered on our end, at least for now,” DP suggested. “You look dead inside.”

“Yeah, I feel dead inside.”

“Well. In that case, as your wise commander, I order you to take a goddamn break for a couple of days. Go home, man. Just leave the sword here, your dumb dad will probably be concerned if you come home with a weapon.”

Link looked off to the side. “But what if Navi shows up again?”

“And what if she doesn’t? Just deal with it, if it happens. And, hey, you can always ask me for advice.”

“...DP, you’ve never been good at giving advice.”

He threw his hands in the air, in feigned offense. “Okay! Sue me! I’m just trying to be helpful!”

Link chuckled. “Fine. Guess I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt… just this once.”

DP smirked. “Great! I’ll advise you so hard, you won’t even remember you had problems in the first place.” He shoved Link towards the door. “Now, go home. Pet your dog. Eat some ice cream straight out of the tub. Play… I don’t know, Fortnite, or whatever it is you adolescents do these days.”

Self care. It’s kind of hard. But Link at least felt a little bit better, he supposed, riding home on his motorcycle.

The autumn air was refreshingly cool. He allowed himself to think of nothing but it.

\----

A few days ago… 

Friday, November 1st, 2019. Two hundred and forty-three days out.

Link had finally found the sword-- so said Lady Palutena, at least. That must have been what the mysterious white light off in the distance earlier had been.

Farore was the boss over his own boss. She called the two of them for a meeting. They travelled to Skyworld to communicate via message portal-- it was how any respectable god did their talking, of course, outside of the esteemed medium of formal letters.

Pit hadn’t worn his guard’s uniform in such a long time. Though it had changed a bit to stay updated with the modern era, it was mostly the same as it ever was. It was strange; after just a short amount of time away, wearing it felt… weird. Not what was normal for him, despite the fact that this was what he’d lived in for centuries.

He fidgeted with the scarf the whole time they were up there.

“Hello,” Farore had greeted them, green eyes sharp and stern, voice lacking any kind of welcome to it. 

“Hello,” Palutena greeted back, unusually business-like.

Pit said nothing. He just stood off in the back, like any good servant should do. 

Farore, seated in her towering, emerald realm, did not have much to say: merely, that the sword that seals the darkness had been recovered, and that the wielder’s original intended mentor-- Navi, a troublesome fairy who used to serve Farore-- was inside the sword, and had managed to communicate with him. Palutena’s mission, and Pit’s, by extension, had not changed. Navi could not be trusted to guide Link in the correct direction, given what atrocities she’d been known to commit in past iterations.

“Of course,” Palutena affirmed, bowing a bit. 

It was strange to see her in an obedient position, Pit noted. But it only made sense. Farore had, after all, created the very planet that Palutena now watched over, and had to have her dues paid to her somehow.

That was the end of their meeting. As quickly as she’d made herself known, Farore disappeared, and the message portal blipped out of existence.

Palutena turned to him. “Pit,” she began, attempting to mask a painful expression-- it was no use, Pit was observant, he could tell-- “If we want to begin to train Link ourselves, now is the time.”

He blinked. His words caught in his throat.

No, no, no, no, they were friends, really great friends, it was far too soon to throw that all away. 

But Pit couldn’t disobey an order. “...Do _you_ want to?” he offered, staring off to the side, into the evening sky.

“If the fairy inside the sword is insidious… and I know she is, I’ve experienced it first-hand… she’ll tell him everything we’ve been hoping he wouldn’t learn,” Palutena explained. “This may be what we have to do.”

“So… the original plan?”

“Yes, the original plan.”

Like a shot in the heart.

\----

Tuesday, November 5th, 2019. Two hundred and thirty-nine days out.

Do or die time. He’d spent the last three days psyching himself up for what he had to do. 

Link had been fretting that he’d been angry with him, after not responding to his message, and not showing up at school or the NFC meeting on Monday. He voiced his concerns to Pit during lunch, in their usual spot against the wall of the school building.

Oh, I’m fine, Pit had said, with a smile. Just kind of got sick after the party.

Are you mad? Link had asked, worry crossing his face. 

Why would I ever be mad with you? 

Link had just shrugged, a contented smile on his face.

The two of them went for a walk in the same local park they usually went to. On a cold, November afternoon like this one, nobody wanted to go hang around outside. The park was empty; not even a desperate parent taking their children out to exercise on the playground could be found.

Nobody else would hear Pit’s explanation. 

Good.

They walked down their usual path through the woods. Most of the leaves on the trees had fallen off by this point, littering the ground like a dead blanket.

“Oh,” Link suddenly started, leaning over to pick something off of the ground. “Look at this leaf!”

“What about it?”

“Isn’t it pretty?”

Red and yellow, freshly fallen off a tree. Pit supposed it looked like every other leaf on the path.

He looked up at Link, whose eyes were filled with a sort of wonder Pit was starting to become familiar with-- he didn’t see it often, but when he did, it felt like a special moment. How Link could find random, regular, wild things like half-dead flowers, the way a certain tree would arc its branches, or a strange cloud formation in the sky so _interesting_ was beyond him. Maybe the leaf wasn’t special… but it was fascinating how something so insignificant could cause someone like Link to light up like this, and Pit couldn’t help but get swept up in his wonder as well. 

“I… guess it is!” Pit grinned, nodding in agreement. “It looks kind of like a sunset or something.”

“That’s kinda pretentious, Pit.”

“Hm… You’re probably right.”

Link’s fingers quietly reached for his hand at some point. This time, he didn’t try to pull away.

“How can you stand to wear sandals in this weather?” he commented.

Pit laughed, softly. “Hey, I’m wearing socks, too. They keep my feet pretty warm, you’d be surprised.” He smirked. “Also, aren’t you the person who was wearing a giant jacket and jeans in the middle of August?”

Link fiddled with the sleeve of his aforementioned jacket. “I get cold easily.”

“Are you cold right now?”

“Well, your hand’s pretty warm.”

“...So’s yours.”

They looked at each other, accidentally-- Link stared back at him with his peaceful, deep blue eyes, and snorted to himself.

“W-what?”

“You know, between all the nonsense that’s been happening in my life,” he said, staring off into the distance, “It’s nice, kicking around with someone... normal.”

Pit felt his heart start racing. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t get me wrong, my other friends are great. But, you know, they’re all caught up in this apocalypse-fight club stuff, right? DP’s an angel, Zelda’s always plotting stuff for the NFC, and Meggy, uh, she’s not caught up in it as much as the other two, but she’s pretty crazy overall-- I guess, what I’m trying to say, is… thanks. For bringing me back down to earth, when I need it.”

He couldn’t carry out Palutena’s orders. Not yet.

Link _needed_ a friend like him, even if most everything he knew about him was a lie.

Not yet. What Pit had to say could be put off for another day.

Pit sighed, silently.

“Anytime, Link.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so uh for those of you who are keeping up with this, sorry about the sudden lack of an update last week... I sort of got tied up in going back and editing a lot of this next part coming up that I Did Not Like. it's still far from perfect, but I guess I'm going to have to call it finished at some point. 
> 
> in the spirit of getting better at reading and responding to comments, if anybody has any feedback so far, I'd love to hear it! 
> 
> \----  
> thanks for reading! -- updates are mondays for the foreseeable future.


	23. XXII. Welcome to the Club, Bucko

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> being cool at the pizza place. it's definitely a breeze.
> 
> \----

November 8th, 2019. Two hundred and thirty-six days out.

Pit had always had a bit of an… interesting relationship with the humans.

It wasn’t as if he disliked them-- far from it, actually! But whenever he was around them, he couldn’t help but feel this inexplicable unease in the back of his mind.

As friendly as he was, he had never been particularly good at actually  _ making  _ friends. He might even venture to say he was quite bad at it. So bad, in fact, that he could probably count on two hands and one foot the number of  _ good  _ friends he’d ever had. Being around any of the other gods or servants was always a little more familiar to him; sure, he knew everyone thought he was annoying, but he’d long since accepted his own social ineptitude, and even still, Palutena was always there to be a buffer between them and him making a giant fool of himself.

There was none of that with mortals. Every time he was around them, he became acutely aware of just how  _ different  _ he was from them.

Humans were narrow-minded individuals, but not in a bad way. Their lives were short, was all. What was there for them to worry about? Everything came in its predictable turn: they were born, they’d grow up, find something to do with themselves, perhaps start a family, perhaps not, and then hopefully die with some sense of satisfaction. It was only a matter of finding how to fit into that cycle.

Pit wished his life could be that cyclical. But every day was spent languishing in nothingness, worrying about his next assignment, on and on, into oblivion. When would it end? A few days out, in some unpredictable blaze of heroism? Or, maybe, thousands of years into the future, at the end of an unendingly-long lifespan?

Humans had aspirations. He did not. Nothing made him more cognizant of this fact than hanging out with a bunch of  _ teenagers _ .

But Meggy had insisted upon hosting some kind of welcome-party at that pizza place for him and Shulk (who was apparently also in the NFC? Since when?), and Pit wasn’t about to disappoint her by saying no. 

It took a fair amount of self-convincing to get out of the house that Friday evening. 

Why did they even want to host a party for him? It was completely unnecessary-- he was only there to help them fight the hands, and that was it. Hardly a cause for celebration. It just seemed like a big waste of time for something so trivial. What would he even be expected to do?

Link would be there, he reminded himself.

Everything would be okay. Right? You just have to stay optimistic about it. 

He cringed at himself as he pushed through the doors of Smash Pizza-- he was twenty minutes late.

The whole group was sitting in the back of the restaurant. It was kind of hard to miss them when Meggy was wildly waving her hands in the air. “HEY! WE’RE OVER HERE!” she shouted, before an exasperated DP yanked her back down into her seat.

Pit thought of three things as he made his way over to the table:

Number one-- he was  _ still  _ stalling. You aren’t supposed to be hanging out with these people, you’re supposed to reveal your identity to Link and then get out of there.

Number two-- DP doesn’t want you here. Look at him glaring.

Number three--

Oh, Gods, he was supposed to  _ talk  _ to these people, and how could he be expected to do that without looking like an idiot? He could try to play it cool, but that’s when people start mocking him, or he could shut up and not say anything, but how could a chatterbox like himself possibly do that?

Everyone let out a chorus of enthusiastic ‘heys’ and ‘hellos’ and the like. “Glad to see you’re finally here,” Meggy announced.

Be cool, Pit.

“H-heya, guys,” he eked out, grinning in a way he could tell looked highly unnatural.

There was an uncomfortable moment of silence. All he could notice were DP’s intense red eyes. 

“I had no idea you were part of the team, too!” said Shulk, who was sitting at the end of the table with Akira and Zelda. “I thought you were just a spot light guy. Turns out you know how to fight?”

“Sorta? I’m just new here, so, uh… yeah.”

Meggy rolled her eyes. “It’s a welcome party for the  _ both  _ of you, you dunce.”

Shulk made a face.

Pit just shuffled over to Link, who was quietly motioning to the empty spot next to him at the end of the table.

“Hey,” Link greeted.

“Hi,” he smiled back.

Everybody went back to what they were talking about before, and all the eyes that were on him paid him no more mind.

Somehow, this was better.

\----

“Link, how many slices of pizza do you think you’d eat? I kinda want to get a whole pizza but I also kinda don’t think I could eat all of it,” Pit asked, squashed right next to Link at the end of the table.

“...You’d eat a whole pizza?”

“Yeah? If I’m super hungry?”

Link blinked a few times in surprise, but didn’t question it any further. “I guess, like, three or four tops. You want to share one?”

Pit nodded. “What do you like on it?”

“I normally get this Brawlin’ Veggie Pizza whenever I’m here--”

“ _ Vegetable _ pizza? Ew! What’s wrong with you, Link?”

Link snickered, holding the menu up to hide his grin. “Veggie pizza’s good. You just have the taste buds of a three-year old.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, how about this, uh…” Pit started, snatching the menu and giving it an intense glance, “Ultimate Cheese Pizza? Every kind of cheese is here!... What does that even mean?”

It was just hyperbole, he realized, looking at the ingredients in the description. But it was still a lot of cheese.

“Sure,” Link shrugged. “Cheese is good, too.”

“Cheese is unbeatable.”

“Yup.”

They nodded at each other for several seconds.

“You’re getting the Ultimate? Casuals,” Ness butted in from the sides. “You’ve gotta get the Melee Mushroom Pizza. It’s  _ way  _ better.”

Pit rolled his eyes. 

Eventually, Cloud Strife, who was waiting tables this evening, dragged himself over to the NFC’s gathering. “What would you all like to order?” he drawled, taking out a pad of paper from his obnoxiously red apron. 

Everyone ordered. 

He turned to leave. 

Ness ever-so-subtly slammed his hands on the table. 

He turned back around.

“How long do you think it’ll take for the food to get here?” Ness demanded, in a way so casual you’d assume he and Cloud had known each other for years. And maybe they had, with how much Ness seemed to frequent the establishment. Who knows.

Cloud rubbed his face in slight exasperation, walking away. “I don’t know… half an hour? Or more? There’s a hell of a lot of you tonight. Just be patient.”

“Well, you know what that means,” Ness started, standing up and thumping a hand against the pockets of his jeans (must have had a  _ lot  _ of quarters in there, based on the jangling sound). “Meet me in the back if you want to challenge me!”

And he paraded off towards some arcade machine against the far wall. 

“What’s his deal?” Pit asked, whispering to Link.

“I don’t really know. I think he just likes games.”

Games… Pit turned, and finally noticed the world of arcade machines in the back of the restaurant. He’d always known they were there, of course, but…

The colorful, blinking lights were so inviting.

Ooh.

He  _ loved  _ arcade games. It felt like all he ever did back in the 80s. He hadn’t played them in forever, though.

“Link, do you want to play some games?” Pit blurted out.

“I… guess? But I don’t think I have any quarters…”

Pit rummaged through his bag. Surely he had a ton-- he always paid with bills, counting out coins was too confusing. “Here’s, uh, some,” he offered, throwing a number of them onto the table.

There were only five, actually.

After bribing Zelda for more quarters, they meandered into the back. Pit absolutely destroyed Link in air hockey, again in Road Fighter, the iconic fighting game, and then again in one of those dumb racing games where you sit on a plastic motorcycle and shift from side to side to ineffectively steer it (which Link was particularly distraught about, considering that he was a motorcyclist himself). 

And then Pit lost at the claw machine. Can you lose at a claw machine? Well, of course you can, because crushing loss is all he felt. “What a rip-off,” he moaned, gazing longingly at a stuffed dog inside behind the glass. “I had it and everything, and then it just FELL OUT!”

“Let me try,” Link offered. “I’m pretty good at claw machines, actually.”

“Really?”

“That’s what my dad says…”

“Well, I hope your dad’s right.”

Link went for that dog Pit had been gunning for earlier. With as much care and precision as possible, he positioned the claw… 

No luck.

“It’s a rip-off, I tell you!”

“Sorry, Pit,” Link shrugged, laughing to himself.

He went red. “...Why are you laughing?”

“Oh, no, it’s not-- you just get really into this stuff, don’t you?”

Pit spared a glance towards the table. Meggy was blabbering on about something, and everyone else was engrossed in her words. None of them were watching. “Do you… think that’s weird?” he asked.

“Why would it be weird? Everyone gets mad at claw machines,” Link elaborated. “You’re just very, like, animated about it. It’s kind of cute--”

“CUTE?”

“I-in a funny way, I mean! It’s, like, you’re just, uh, energetic about it or something--”

Everyone was looking their way now.

“Let’s… do something else,” Pit suggested, taking Link by the hand and dragging him off to somewhere out of sight-- some random arcade box stuck in the far corner of the restaurant.

But Link obviously noticed that something was wrong, and he furrowed his brows. “...You okay?” he asked, looking into Pit’s eyes with slight concern.

They were still holding hands. Don’t do that! They’re all watching!

Well, they were here now, and Pit supposed he should say something on the matter. “I guess,” he tried to start, quickly wrestling out of Link’s grip, “I don’t-- I’m just, uh, worried that everybody thinks I’m weird.” Perhaps that was a more pedestrian way of putting it, but whatever.

“Well, I don’t think you’re weird--”

“I  _ know  _ that, silly,” he teased. “But what about everyone else? I’m so bad at making friends, I just feel like I’m going to say something stupid, and ruin everything…” He sighed, leaning over the arcade machine to rest his head in his hands. “Isn’t that kind of dumb? They literally  _ invited  _ me here, and I can’t even take that.”

“Everyone in the NFC’s kind of weird, though.”

“They’re not weird, they want to… well, do stuff, you know!” Pit protested. “Meggy’s a really cool artist, Zelda’s a genius, and you! You want to be a chef--”

“Like that’s ever going to happen--”

“Akira’s a secret vigilante, and DP…” he hesitated, feeling a rush of nervousness at the thought of the other angel. “H-he’s a rebel. He does what he wants, even if he’s not supposed to. And what about me? I just… exist. I can’t be friends with people like  _ that. _ ”

Link didn’t quite know what to say. 

Oh, Pit, you idiot. “I’m sorry, this probably isn’t the best place to be venting…”

“Uh,” Link started, not quite understanding where the sudden outburst had come from, “Maybe you just… haven’t found what you want to do yet?”

That wasn’t the problem.

“Maybe.”

“But I don’t think the others mind that at all. They like you because you’re… friendly. And funny. And sincere,” Link shrugged. “Even if you say something dumb, they’re not going to care.”

“You… don’t think so?”

“I don’t know what people in California are like, but I think the NFC’s way nicer than whoever you hung out with before you moved here.”

Pit’s mind drifted back to that night on the lawn last month… I don’t really need a reason to like you, Link had said. Maybe it would be best to swallow his fear and give all these people a chance.

“Hey, boys! The pizza’s here!” Meggy shouted, waving the two of them over to the table.

“You ready to eat?”

“...Sure,” Pit shrugged.

“Do you… at least feel better?”

“I think so?”

“That’s not particularly reassuring,” Link chuckled, sitting back down in his spot at the end of their table. “Maybe pizza will help?”

It certainly smelled delicious. And looked delicious. Every kind of cheese is here…

The two of them sat in silence at the end of the table, too preoccupied with eating to actually talk about anything. And when silence sets in, that’s when Pit starts to notice his surroundings.

Everyone was chatting at the other end of the table-- well, maybe not everyone, seeing as Ness and Lucas were too preoccupied watching a quarter spin around on its side to pay attention-- but those who were talked loud. Rambunctious. Chaotically, but all with ease amongst each other.

Meggy was, perhaps, the loudest of all, drowning out everyone else with her ridiculous quips. Akira would butt in every now and then, and Shulk would often cringe. Zelda liked to talk with her hands, Pit supposed, noticing how she wildly gestured them around every time she said something. Kirby was subtly stealing fries off of her plate.

And it seemed like DP was just another member of the group. Just like them. How was it so easy for him…

At some point, Meggy walked up to him, jolting him out of his thoughts with an unexpected poke of his shoulder. “When’s your birthday?” she asked.

“Why do you ask...?”

“I’m trying to get the waiter to bring us free dessert. I was going to pretend it was  _ my  _ birthday, but I think I’ve pulled this stunt too many times for Cloud to fall for it again.”

Pit furrowed his brows in confusion. “...December 19th?”

“Dammit! Is nobody here born in November?” she whined. “You know what, that’s close enough. Get ready, birthday boy.” Sticking a hand in the air, she called out for the waiter. “Hey! Cloud! Over here!”

Pit looked at Link as if to say, What exactly is happening?

Link just shrugged. But it looked as if he was stifling a laugh.

Eventually, Cloud made his way back over to the table, sighing in annoyance. “What now?”

“Well,” Meggy began, putting an arm around Pit’s shoulders, “It’s my friend’s birthday.”

Pit went red in the face-- whether it was from embarrassment or pleasant surprise, he wasn’t quite sure.

Cloud narrowed his eyes. “You’re sure about that.”

“You can’t prove I’m lying,” she grinned, in the most shit-eating way possible. “Unless you want us to go dig up his birth certificate.” Pit freaked out for a brief moment. Birth certificate? He didn’t have one of those… but Meggy was just joking. Right. Of course.

“...I’ll get the cake. Do you want the staff to come out and sing for you, too?”

“Please, no,” Pit quietly moaned, covering his face with his hands.

“Get two slices while you’re at it! It’s his twin brother Shulk’s birthday as well!”

“What?” Shulk squawked. “No I’m--” 

He was forcefully shoved back down into his seat by a snickering Akira.

Slowly, Pit managed to take his hands away from his face. “You know… you didn’t have to do that, Meggy,” he protested.

“Nonsense! It’s a party for you. And, uh, Shulk. It would be stupid to not have cake,” she winked. “Besides, I always lie to the waiters at restaurants. Oldest trick in the book, you know? It’s no biggie!”

“Free cake is free cake,” Lucas agreed, butting in. “As long as you’ll share some of it.” Great… seemed like everyone was listening now, Pit noticed, feeling nine pairs of eyes staring at him.

“Well, it’s not just that,” he tried to reason, finding his voice faltering. “I mean, this whole party thing-- don’t you think it’s kind of unnecessary? You all… hardly even know me.”

“Pssh. Who cares? You’re part of the club now! A friend of the club is a friend of mine.”

“Plus, how else are we supposed to get to know you?” Zelda called from across the table. “Magically transmitting information about you into our brains?”

“Yeah, dude, give us a Pit Fact,” Ness added.

They… really want to get to know you. Pit’s face broke out into a dumb smile, but immediately turned to one of slight panic as he realized there weren’t many Pit Facts outside of, ‘Pit is a magical creature who spends most of his time being a defender of Earth.’

“Uh,” was all he said, blushing a bit.

Link, however, put a reassuring arm around his shoulder, answering for him. “Pit likes to listen to classical music, actually. Who was that guy? Da Bussy?--”

“It’s  _ Debussy _ , Link,” Pit snickered.

“...He likes Debussy.”

“I do like Debussy, yeah.”

“And he’s surprisingly strong! He can lift both of my sound boards at once!” Shulk added.

Meggy grinned, a little evilly. “ _ And _ , his mom is dating your aunt, Akira--”

“Wh-- You mean--  _ Teyna  _ is your mom?” Akira stuttered, all the cool in his voice suddenly gone. “That washed-out movie star with the green hair?”

“Wait, Pit, your mom is a  _ movie star? _ ”

“I, uh, I don’t really think these are Pit Facts anymore!” Pit exclaimed, trying to sink down in his seat to disappear a bit.

Miraculously, that’s when Cloud came back, wearing a gaudy red party hat, with two giant slices of cake on a tray. Meggy looked up at him and burst out laughing. “Management says I have to wear the hat,” he mumbled, “So whatever you’re going to say, don’t. Here’s your cake. Enjoy.”

“Well, since we’re not going to get a happy birthday out of him,” Meggy stated, watching Cloud scurry off as quickly as possible, “Someone has to give a welcome speech or something.”

“I’ll do it!” Shulk offered.

“No, you dolt, it’s a speech for  _ you _ .”

“Oh.”

“How about… DP?” Meggy announced, pointing her finger at the angel in question. “Since you’re our intrepid leader and everything.”

Pit felt a sudden rush of fear go through him, and he impulsively looked to DP. 

DP looked hesitant. Not in a scornful way-- just as if a similar rush of fear had passed through him, too. But then his intense eyes turned oddly soft. “Fine,” he agreed, a bit of a sarcastic grin spreading across his face. “I’ll do your speech.”

“You’d better stand on a chair or something, though. For dramatic effect.”

“Meggy, I’m not going to risk getting pummeled by the staff again--”

“Okay, fine, whatever! Do it sitting down.”

“I think I will,” he scoffed, clearing his throat. “Uh. Well. I’m not great with words, so this’ll probably be short… I guess. Um.”

Pit wanted to laugh, but held it in.

“Well, the Ninten Fight Club is kind of weird. Obviously. But we’re just some guys, and we’re all pretty different, but here we are, somehow. Times are weird, and everything kind of sucks, but I think we’ve got the power to make things get better, you know? Because… we’re not joiners. If we see something wrong, we fix it. Even if it’s not conventional.”

He pointed down the table. “Shulk’s a great guy. Super smart, super, uh, tech-savvy or whatever, and he’s… nice. Wait, that’s kind of vague-- nice in the way that he's friendly. He’ll get along with everyone just fine.”

And then, back down the other side of the table. Pit felt a pang of nervousness as his eyes passed over him. “Pit is… probably the nicest guy I know,” DP continued, resting his head in a hand. “Nicer than any of you schmucks, anyways. He just wants good things for people. He’ll do things to get good things for people. And I think that’s, you know, really important.”

Pit and DP met eyes.

There was a pause.

Pit felt a rush of something pleasant. Did he  _ really  _ think that? Because, if so… that was probably the nicest thing his counterpart had ever said about him.

“So… uh… yeah,” DP finished. “Welcome to the club.”

There was a round of slightly-ironic applause before Kirby shot out of his seat. “Now, let’s eat cake!”

“I second that!” Ness cheered.

It was hard to split two slices of cake amongst ten people, but somehow, they managed to pull it off. Pit finally got a moment to breathe as he sat back down in his chair, gleefully digging into his little sliver of cake. “Your friends are kind of wacky, don’t you think?” he commented, leaning over to Link, who had been silently smiling to himself the whole time.

“They’re your friends too, you know,” he shrugged. “But yeah. That’s why they’re so great.”

You can have friends-- Pit hadn’t had a group of friends in such a  _ long  _ time.

Meggy said something dumb again, and everyone bust into laughter. Pit couldn’t help but be swept up in the uproar

Ah. He’d missed this.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> chapters that you retroactively add really be like ._.


	24. XXIII. Angelus Ex Machina

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> November 10th, 2019. Two hundred and thirty-four days out.
> 
> Also known as, the night where everything sort of went to shit out of the blue. 
> 
> \----

It was a Sunday, so in a bout of boredom, Link invited Pit over to his apartment. DP was still insisting that he stay on break from ‘formal’ NFC duties until at least this Thursday, so he and Pit seized the opportunity to kick around, as they liked to do.

Pit had met Link’s father for the first time that night; it seemed as if he actually  _ liked  _ Pit, in all of his awkward, cheerful demeanor… which was good, considering that the rest of his friends hadn’t really garnered a very high approval rating from the man. 

At some point, he’d left the house to go grab some toilet paper from the local convenience store. That left Link and Pit on their own, sitting on the sofa, playing some more Magnificent Mash Sisters.

Pit had graduated from spamming projectiles at the end of the stage to… spamming aerial moves instead. “Y’think I’m doing any better?” he’d asked Link, reveling in the glory of a hard-earned win against his Belvedere.

“Spamming aerials doesn’t exactly make you any better, Pit. Though I guess it makes you  _ look  _ more competent,” he chuckled, rolling his eyes.

Pit pumped a fist in the air. “I’ll take it! People will be more afraid of me if they  _ think  _ I know what I’m doing. That’s how any good person should get by in life.”

“Whatever you say,” Link conceded. “But I’m still beating you… eighty percent of the time.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

Then both of their phones buzzed an unfamiliar vibration, in tandem.

Link picked his off of the coffee table. The first thing he saw was this:

**Emergency Alert**

For the greater area: Multiple unidentifiable objects are visible in the sky. Seek shelter immediately.

“Oh, geez,” he murmured.

Pit looked over his shoulder. “What is it… oh, dang, yeah, that looks bad.”

Link’s eyes widened in realization. “It’s gotta be the hands.”

“Look out the window, then!” Pit exclaimed, jumping off of the couch, dashing over to the window behind the dining table. 

Outside, a whole…  _ swarm _ of Crazy Hands had flooded the skies, firing their lasers at random into the sky, streets, wherever. It was an absolutely terrifying sight. Link felt his stomach begin to roil in fear.

His phone buzzed again:

**ratchorus** : HOLY SHIT EVERYONE THERE’S AN ABSOLUTE ASSLOAD OF CRAZY HANDS IN THE SKY RIGHT NOW.

**ratchorus** : WHEREVER YOU ARE, STOP WHAT YOURE DOING AND GET OUT HERE

**ratchorus** : YOU CAN SEE THEM FROM ANYWERHE HOLY SHIT

**ratchorus** : IM BY MY HOUSE PLEASE COME NOW

**inkl1ing** : damn, u right

**inkl1ing** : im comin now. But i gotta walk :[

**weliveinasociety** : shit dude. I’m coming with the rest of the p. Thieves and my aunt

**monadopower47** : omw!

**legitNess** : lucas imma teleport 2 u and then we go togethr got it

**helianthus** : yes!

**zelders** : Oh god. I’ll be there asap. Just have to get around my father first.

**ratchorus** : if you have time to text you have time to get your asses over here as fast as you can

Pit had opened up the group chat on his own phone, briefly glancing over it. “We gotta go right now, Link,” he stated, blue eyes wide.

“O-of course. We’ll take my bike. Will you be okay out there? Since you’re not, uh, experienced at fighting...”

“I can handle myself, Link.”

He sure hoped so. If Pit got hurt out there… Link didn’t know how he’d deal with it.

And what of his father, presumably hunkered down in the back aisles of some convenience store? Would he be okay, or would he get blasted apart by some errant laser? And even further, what about the  _ rest  _ of the city? What was even going to happen to everyone?

Link paled, just thinking about it. But he had to go if he wanted any chance of preventing death. He grabbed his keys, shoved his only helmet into Pit’s arms, and ran to the front door. “Let’s go. Now.”

The ride over was tense. The hands in the smoky sky became clearer and clearer as the two of them neared. Cars sped by, in a rush to leave the city. His phone buzzed endlessly in his jacket pocket. Adrenaline rushed through his system. 

Pit’s grasp around his waist was bindingly tight. “Are you okay?” Link called, over his shoulder.

“As fine as I could be right now!”

“Hold on, I’m going to go faster!” No one was going to pull them over. It all sped by in a blur-- until a laser was fired in their direction, impacting the road a mere fifty or so feet in front of them. Link screamed, swerving violently to the right.

“They’re just gonna keep coming, keep driving, Link!” Pit yelled, hunching down to avoid the small chunks of asphalt flying through the air. “We’re almost there!”

It was almost like an action scene in a movie or something-- Link putting all the fruits of his mere two years of driving experience to use in order to dodge the falling lasers, and Pit behind him, yelling directions from the back of the motorcycle. 

When they finally arrived near DP’s home, Link almost couldn’t recognize the street. Many buildings were on fire, street lamps were toppled, parked cars destroyed, sirens blared in the distance… Were they sure this wasn’t the apocalypse right now?

The hands were all over, some in the sky, some already grounded. Kirby was in the air, on his warp star, blasting holes into the hands with Ness’ copied psychic powers. The aforementioned psychic kid was on the ground with Lucas, dealing with some of the weakened hands. Akira and… presumably, the other Phantom Thieves, were scattered around the streets, guns aimed high into the sky.

It was a total disaster. The team was taking them out, but there were just _ so many of them _ .

DP descended out of the sky, landing on one knee in front of Link and Pit. “Finally!” he exclaimed, voice obviously frantic beyond belief. “I’m… ugh, I’m sorry, I should have realized this was going to happen when the Master Hand came!” he hissed. “Link, your sword’s in the warehouse. Get it now. And Pit…” he faltered, “Just… go with Link for now. Stay safe. I need to--”

One of the hands started rapidly spinning towards them, interrupting DP’s thought. “Go, DP! Don’t worry about us!” Link shouted, grabbing Pit by the wrist, and dragging him towards the warehouse. DP materialized a strange, metal… thing out of his weird magic angel hammerspace (what was it? Link had no clue, he was too busy running in the other direction), ramming the hand away with it. He could hear the faint sounds of electricity crackling as he dashed inside the warehouse.

The sword was still inside, lying in the exact spot Link had left it in last Tuesday. He grabbed its hilt, ready to use it in combat for the first time, when--

_ LINK! _

Crap. She’s back.

_ Link, I know you can hear me. Say something! _

“Navi, can we talk later? I need to be somewhere right now.”

Pit froze. “...Navi?”

“Some dumb fairy,” Link explained, with a groan. “She’s trying to train me over telepathy, I guess.”

_ Yeah, and I’m gonna train you now. Giant horde of Crazy Hands impending. I can feel it! You’d better get outside-- _

“I know!”

_ Then GO! _

He’d go in a second, but first… “Pit, what are you going to do?” Link asked, worry in his eyes.

“I think,” Pit mused, surveying the arsenal DP had dropped on the ground, “I’ll just take this gun.”

“Do you know how to use it? I think can show you how--”

He was cut off by the sound of Pit firing a bullet straight out the door, and into a hand crawling about the streets. “I’d say I’m a pretty good shot,” he winked.

...Impressive.

The two of them rushed back out to the road, where the situation hadn’t improved in the slightest. Navi was screaming instructions into his head, but he kept himself above anger, sifting through her babble to figure out what the important stuff was. In his left hand, he gripped his sword, and in the other, Pit’s; whether it was for his own safety or to protect him, he wasn’t sure. Maybe it was both.

“So what’s the plan?” Pit squawked, looking up at the mass of hands circling above.

Link gritted his teeth. “DP and Kirby are the ones who can actually get in the air, so we’ll leave the flying ones to them… the Phantom Thieves can shoot them down, too.”

“PK THUNDER!”

Ness’ electrified body went catapulting through the sky, into the palm of an unassuming hand.

“...And Ness can, too, I guess? Anyways… when the hands come down, I’ll take them out with my sword. You can, uh…”

“I’ll watch your back!” Pit declared.

“Perfect.”

_...And, frankly, Dharkon’s not gonna send this many Crazy Hands to a guy that just found the sword. That’s obscene! They’re probably here for some other reason, though I have no clue what that could be... _

Oh. If Navi was right-- and it sounded like she was, the NFC had never encountered more than three hands at once-- then the Crazy Hands were probably sent to take someone out. Or, maybe, something.

Shit. Were they after the NFC? Had the gods finally gotten wind of their little operation? If so, they were probably all done for.

Link shook the thoughts from his head. Right now, he needed to focus on eliminating the threat, not the reason why it was here in the first place.

“Crazy Hand, coming at you!”

He quickly whipped around, noticing the grounded hand behind him, covered in bullet holes and still smoldering from the flames of PK Fire. With half-practiced precision, Link dodged around its stray lasers, coming to meet its crawling figure up-close; in a flurry of slashes, he managed to stab his sword right through its palm, and it fell over before dying in a puff of smoke.

“I didn’t know you were that good, Link!” Pit called out. 

“If by good, you mean, ‘magically developed skills one day,’ then sure!”

_ It’s not magic, you idiot, you were just born with it! Quit blabbering and turn around! _

That hand wasn’t the last one. Two more had taken its place.

Kirby quickly arced down from the sky, shooting a spark of green psychic energy onto the hands, briefly paralyzing them. “Watch out! More are coming down!” he called.

It was true: for every hand Link managed to kill, it seemed as if twice as many appeared to replace it. 

But that was fine. So far, he’d gotten out without much of a scratch. Pit was fine, too, sometimes shooting at the hands with his deadly aim from behind a street lamp. His adrenaline would hopefully carry him through.

“Navi, do you know how many are left?” he called out, panting.

_ Fuck if I know! Like, a shit ton? Look up. They’re still all over the place. _

DP was up there, absolutely swarmed, wings visibly singed from barely-missed lasers. Kirby was… oh, damn. Where  _ was  _ Kirby?

“Pit, do you know what happened to Kirby?” Link shouted, plunging his sword into the side of a flailing hand.

“I think I saw him get slapped out of the sky a few minutes ago…”

Oh, God, if their numbers started dwindling, this could legitimately be it.

Fight harder, Link. Everyone needs you right now.

“Pit, let’s see if we can get closer to DP… help him out from below?”

Pit nodded, running back to Link’s side. “Of course!”

The block DP was flying above was almost thoroughly aflame. He was straining, all alone, up in the sky. Kirby lay off to the side, body sheltered by a piece of broken asphalt.

Was he dead…?

The two rushed to his side, shaking him to see if he was awake. No response, but he felt warm, so Link assumed he was just unconscious. 

Pit exhaled sharply. “What do we do…”

“Watch him. Make sure he doesn’t get hit again,” Link instructed, looking back up at the battle in the sky. “I’ll try to help DP.” Pit nodded, expression determined.

It was scorchingly hot. Link had to squint to see through the smoke and flame. How on earth was he going to get up there? “DP, what can I do?” he shouted. DP didn’t respond, though, too busy using all his concentration in fighting to stay in the air.

It was turning into a losing battle. With Kirby down, and the Phantom Thieves running out of bullets-- judging by the distinct lack of gunshots resounding through the streets over the past few minutes-- it seemed as if DP was going to have to solo it in the air.

He couldn’t do that alone. He was certainly going to die. Link could feel it, dreadfully building up in the bottom of his stomach.

They were all going to die, he realized.

“LINK! Is DP going to be alright?” Pit shouted to him, face clearly showing the same desperation Link was feeling.

Link didn’t say anything back. He just met Pit’s frantic blue eyes.

Both of them were going to die. Dammit, he just wanted to play Mash Sisters with him, not this.

He kept fighting off grounded hands, but even now, his energy began to wane. The sword fumbled in his left hand, damaged fingers struggling to keep a grip on its hilt. 

_ Keep going, Link! Do you wanna die? Because that’s what’s going to happen!  _ Navi screamed, rattling his brain with her frenetic words.

They were going to die. It was just as DP said: real shit. Now they were facing the consequences for rising against the cosmic-apocalypse plan. Just like the last wielder, and just like Navi. 

To his right, he could see Ness and Lucas in the distance, almost too weak to fire a psychic attack at a nearby group of hands. To his left, Shulk and Akira, at each other’s backs, resorting to using their fists against the enemy. In front of him, a fainted Kirby, and… Pit. An innocent bystander, who had been dragged into this whole mess by Link’s overzealousness.

But Pit didn’t look scared for his life, like the rest of them-- merely, as if he was hesitating. On the verge of bursting out completely.

Link couldn’t contemplate it. He still had to keep fighting. 

There was a shout, the blast of a laser, and the sound of a body hitting the ground. 

DP had fallen. He struggled to even lift himself up with his arms, much less grab his staff that had been strewn several feet away.

“Agh!” Link stuttered. He ran to the angel’s side, smacking away an approaching hand. “Are you okay?”

“Fuck, no, of course not!” DP seethed, grabbing onto Link’s shoulder to hoist himself up. “My flight’s finally up. We’re not… gonna be able to take them on.”

Link went still. “So… this is it?”

“Not until we’re dead, Link. Give me my staff.”

“You can’t even stand up--”

“GIVE ME THE GUN!”

More Crazy Hands were approaching, circling them from all sides, like an impenetrable wall of death. Link grabbed DP’s staff, threw it into his shaking arms, and then readied his sword in a fighting stance; his whole body may have been scratched and bruised all over, and a finger or two may have been broken, but he  _ had _ to keep on fighting. Even if he was the only one left.

DP tried to get into a standing position. He instead collapsed back down to his knees, breathing heavily.

The hands started firing again, their usually unaimed lasers firing much too close for comfort. Link deflected a couple with the blade of his sword, defending his grounded friends. But there were just too many to take on his own; even the power of his so-called legendary weapon was next to useless against their sheer numbers.

A shot was fired, poised to hit DP straight in the face, unnoticed by Link until DP yelled, “SHIT!” and aggressively threw his arms up to shield himself.

Link froze. An errant hand seized the opportunity to punch him to the ground.

And something inside Pit visibly broke. 

“DARK PIT!”

What happened next was something of a… deus ex machina moment, Link would later recall. 

Or maybe  _ angelus _ ex machina was more correct. 

Whatever the term, the sight of Pit leaping to his feet and throwing up two winged shields in front of DP would stay burned into Link’s brain for quite some time. 

It was almost instantaneous. The laser hit the shields, ricocheting right back into the hand. It poofed into smoke on impact. 

What...?

DP slowly lowered his arms. “Pit…” he heaved, “You didn’t have to do that.”

Some kind of conviction crossed Pit’s face. “Pittoo, I’m not just going to sit there and let you all  _ die. _ ”

Link vaulted himself off the ground, grabbing the dropped sword with a scraped-up hand. “Pit, what are you… what’s going on?” he asked, now thoroughly confused.

As Pit gazed back at him, otherworldly eyes shining, Link was suddenly struck by familiar, weird vibes. The same he’d felt the day they met, the same he’d felt in that junkyard, reaching out for the sword. Something started clicking in his mind.

Pit bit his lip. “I’m… dammit,” he cursed, face going pale. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about this sooner.”

“Wait, tell me about what--”

He turned to face the oncoming hands. A pair of pure white wings suddenly sprouted from his back.

It almost seemed as if they were glowing, illuminated by the light of the fire. Link forgot about the circumstances for a moment and just  _ looked _ at them— they were nothing short of  _ majestic.  _

Just like DP’s… Dark Pit? Is that what Pit had called him? 

They were  _ both  _ angels.

And Link had no idea.

Pit then summoned a golden bow, holding it up to the sky. 

“LADY PALUTENA, GRANT ME THE POWER OF FLIGHT!”

And in an eruption of shining light, Pit ascended to the skies. Link watched on in complete shock.

He could’ve come to realize a whole slew of things in that moment, but all he could focus on was that one thought: Pit was an angel, this whole time, and he’d never told Link  _ anything  _ about it. He didn’t know at  _ all _ .

Link stared down at DP, desperate for some kind of explanation.

“...Look, I have legitimately nothing to do with this!” DP exhaled, once again trying to return to his feet. Link offered a tentative hand. “I thought he was gone forever, but then he just  _ showed up _ again one day!”

A crashing thud resounded from behind them. A Crazy Hand, impaled right through the center with a radiant blue arrow. More followed it. Link looked up to the sky to see the horde of hands now clustering around Pit, who was soaring through the skies with a confidence entirely unfamiliar to Link. His aim was deadly-- just as with the gun he’d picked up earlier. One shot right through the middle with his arrows, and the hands fell, never to get up again.

Ness and Lucas, abandoned by the hands they were fighting off, ran over to DP and Link. “Guys, what’s happening?” Lucas exclaimed.

“Yeah, DP, why’s there two of you now?” Ness echoed.

DP groaned. “Shit, guys, it’s Pit.”

“Oh.”

Akira and Shulk soon joined them, followed by Bayonetta and the rest of the Phantom Thieves, straggling in one by one. 

And they watched.

Though the remaining hands in the sky had returned to firing lasers without abandon, Pit dodged each and every one of them effortlessly, with impeccable precision that not even DP could match, shooting the hands down all at the same time. A shot would be fired in his direction; he’d quickly reflect it with his shields, sending it into the center of some other hand a distance away.

A hand managed to get close to him, slapping him to the ground-- Pit was completely unfazed, though, landing on the top of a building in a slide, swiping his messy bangs out of his eyes. The hands began to swarm around him once more, but Pit just separated his bow in half, skirting around errant lasers and fingers, stabbing holes into them in close-combat.

Every slash was intentional, every dodge instant and instinctual. He obviously knew exactly what to do against the Crazy Hands.

The fight danced across the rooftops, obscured into silhouette by the smoke and fire, but the light from Pit’s wings shone through.

He jumped back into the skies, sending the smoke flying off to the sides. Link watched on in awe. It was like… a one-man army, or something like that. Whatever efforts the NFC had made against the hand swarm was laughable compared to this. 

Their numbers had been significantly thinned out. The few that were left gathered below him, prepared to make a final strike.

Pit wasn’t even fazed.

He took one final aim with his bow, blue eyes glinting in the moonlight, nocking several arrows at once.

“Bye now!”

The remaining hands were shot to the ground, struck perfectly by one arrow each.

And that was it. In less than five minutes, the fatal threat was eliminated by just one person. Link couldn't believe it.

Pit was an  _ angel _ . He was stronger than the rest of them combined. And Link had no idea whatsoever.

Just as quickly as he’d ascended, Pit floated back down to the ground, landing in front of the group.

All eyes were on him.

He nervously scanned the crowd, waiting for some kind of a response.

DP looked as if he wanted to say something, but he just inhaled sharply, looking down to the cracked road below.

Pit’s otherworldly eyes met Link’s. No wonder he always thought of them in that way-- they weren’t even of this world, to begin with.

“Pit,” Link began, trying to walk forward, before faltering, and fading back into silence. What could he even say?

And then Pit’s expression fell into total terror. He backed up a few steps.

Link tried to reach out to him. “Hey, it’s--”

But Pit ran. Through the smoke, through the rubble, as fast as he could, leaving a trail of white feathers billowing down behind him. Nobody tried to follow. 

Just like that. Gone. Slipping right through his fingers.

DP put a shaking hand on his shoulder. “We… sorry,” he muttered, sucking in a breath. “I knew, I probably should have said something...”

“...It’s fine,” Link sighed, eyes still intensely focused on the place where Pit was standing just moments before. What was he supposed to make of this? Pit was his friend, even if it turned out he was lying…

The fear hit, painfully closing around his heart; somehow, greater than any of the fear he had just felt fighting for his life. 

Lying. Was anything about Pit real? Had they been friends, or was it… all lies? It must have been lies, no wonder DP didn’t trust him enough to let him on the team-- 

He’d been  _ lied  _ to, he realized. 

A car alarm went off in the distance. A window was shattered. The sounds of police sirens and fire engines grew closer. 

Everyone just stood there. 

Ness adjusted his charred cap. “So… anybody want to explain what  _ that _ was?”

“Don’t ask me shit,” DP drawled. 

This was not fine.

Not even close.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof


	25. interlude I

The World of Light is an ethereal place; a secret, divine dimension in between the spaces of the universe. Towering above everything in this world is an office. None are known to be able to enter it save for the two that domineer over everything that is.

And those who are given permission to enter, obviously. But that’s a bit of a rare occasion.

For a place inhabited by the most supreme of gods, it certainly is a… quainter space than may be expected. It is no temple, it is no gold-plated city, it is no land of holy fire or smoldering brimstone. It is just an office.

One half is a complete mess. It has not been tended to in, perhaps, millions of years. It may be more apt to call this half a workshop, or an artist’s studio. It is also not too frequently utilized; its owner would much rather do his business flitting about the universe, in whatever place suits him at the moment.

The other half is pristine. Everything is in its place, everything has a system. It is lifeless in its organization. The single lily flower placed on the side of the stark white desk sticks out like a sore thumb in the blank nature of the workspace. Its owner uses it as his base of operations. He has not been known to have left the office in millennia.

Directly down the middle of the vast room, there is an electric blue, peeling piece of ordinary masking tape, periodically replaced to help keep the two polar areas from accidentally creeping into one another. Sheer order and chaos cannot coexist, after all. Not in their supreme world of blacks and whites.

There is also a calendar on that stark white desk. There are no dates, only numbers. The concept of a date means nothing to these superior beings; they are merely constructs that mortals use to keep track of the fleeting days of their lives. Time may be a law written into the physics of their universe, but such a concept hardly matters to someone of an infinite existence such as theirs. 

Today’s number is: 234

234 twenty-four hour periods, measured out exclusively for the convenience of their underlings who may need it. Dates may be irrelevant, but it is important to be informative and consistent about the time an event will occur.

On the subject of events, the two gods have decided to hold a meeting between themselves. Something occurred just earlier this night-- something that needs to be discussed. Both have pulled their respective office chairs to the taped line at the center of the room in order to discuss face-to-face.

Dharkon, in a ragged black tee, sits on a rusty three-legged stool, back hunched over with his head in his hands. Galeem sits in a plain white office chair, seated straight in his suit, legs crossed just so.

The air in the room is not tense. There is no reason to be tense around someone of the same standing as you. Galeem stares right at Dharkon, blank face showing as much cordiality as he can muster, while Dharkon stares back in disinterest, eyes slightly narrowed.

“Why am I here?” Dharkon begins.

Galeem withholds a sigh. “You should know why you’re here, Dharkon.”

There’s a smirking grin. “Of course I do, I just wanted to hear it from you.”

It wouldn’t be a meeting between the two of them without Dharkon attempting to string Galeem along the whole time, which is a fact that Galeem knows quite well. “If that’s the case-- tell me. What made you think it was a good idea to try and  _ kill  _ our wielder?”

Dharkon shrugs. “I wasn’t trying to  _ kill  _ them. I was just trying to get rid of that dumb little rebellion.”

“And you felt it necessary to use the force of a  _ hundred  _ Crazy Hands to do that?” Galeem drawls.

“...Well, yes.”

“Dharkon, it’s a rebellion composed of one fake angel, a weak star warrior, and a small handful of humans. Do you really think they pose enough of a threat to warrant that much force?”

Dharkon crosses his arms. “We’re probably going to have to get rid of them some way or another, you know.”

“By recklessly wasting our resources? I think not. Your display of strength was so ridiculous, the Goddess of Light had to step in to prevent our wielder from dying. And you know what happens when the wielder dies, right?”

“Galeem, I’m not brain-dead--”

“--Let me finish. We wait, maybe even another millennium, until we get the strength back to choose another one. And I’m far too tired of  _ waiting around _ to thrust myself back into it,” Galeem groans, gritting his teeth. “So tread carefully. I’m aware I can’t technically do anything to stop you, but I implore you: listen to reason.”

Dharkon’s indignation shifts into a smirk. “Ha. Reason’s a fool’s concept, Gal.”

“Please, do  _ not  _ call me that.”

“But, hey. Since you asked so nicely, I’ll go along with you.”

Galeem clasps his hands together, signalling a finality in their decision. “Perfect. Leave that little… uprising alone, for now. When the time comes, they’ll find they can’t even begin to fathom how small of a chance they stand against us; and if things begin to go wrong, the gods on Earth can take care of things for us. We have greater things to worry about right now.”

Dharkon raises an eyebrow. “Such as…?”

“I am meeting with Tabuu relatively soon,” Galeem explains. “It’s almost time to begin his phase of our plan.”

“What, is he coming here?”

“Of course not. I’m going to him myself.”

“Good for you! You’re going to die of vitamin deficiency pretty soon if you don’t get out of this room every once in a while.”

“Dharkon, it’s a necessity. You know we can’t let Tabuu out of Subspace. I don’t trust you not to take  _ it  _ if he comes to the World of Light.”

“What are you talking about? I have no reason to take  _ it _ , believe me. We’re in total agreement on the end of this iteration.” Dharkon grumbles, picking at dirt underneath his unkempt fingernails. “For someone who wants faith so badly, you sure are frugal about having it yourself, Gal.”

Galeem cringes, but lets the pet name slide. “... _ Anyways. _ Bide your time, Dharkon. Everything is going according to our plan right now.”

“Fine, then. Maybe I will.”

“I know.”

And with that, their meeting is complete. Galeem returns to his desk. Dharkon slinks out of the room.

Everything is as it should be. There is no need to fear.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the big G & D finally stop looming over this fic. updated the tags and everything for them
> 
> and now I retroactively wish I wrote the whole fic in the present tense. oh well. we'll get em next time.


	26. XXIV. Something Completely Different

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gotta set a couple towns on fire to save the world, right?
> 
> \----

Our suburban town was, obviously, left a little bit reeling after the most recent Crazy Hand attack.

Every other instance of their showing up was certainly something to cause alarm, but the threat was usually eliminated quickly and mysteriously, and as such, the authorities didn’t feel the need to get involved. This time was different, though. The hands absolutely choked the skies with their numbers, firing lasers all over the place, setting homes on fire, and causing an untold amount of property damage. Thankfully, no one was reported to have been killed; however, several people retained significant injuries, whether from burns, explosions, or anything of the like.

The government finally decided to get involved-- an attack of this caliber certainly needed to be investigated. It didn’t seem like anything related to terrorism, based on the mysterious forces that always appeared to take down the threat. Perhaps it was an alien invasion? Unlikely, but at this point, authorities were willing to do anything to uncover the source.

The local public schools called off classes for the next few days. Ninten Academy followed suit, not wishing to tarnish its reputation in front of the rest of the county.

Ninten Fight Club spent the rest of that night hunkered down in DP’s warehouse, hoping to avoid being uncovered by any authorities. The air in the space was… tense, to say the least. Nobody seemed to be able to fall asleep.

Except Meggy, conked out on the floor, who had sprinted halfway to the scene of the attack before getting picked up off the side of the road by a panicked Zelda.

DP spent the whole night brooding in a dark corner, under the guise of tending to a still-unconscious Kirby’s injuries. He’d given his hammock to Link, who probably needed it more than him at this point. Link had tanked a bunch of those hands  _ and  _ just found out that two of his closest friends had been lying to him for months-- or, maybe, even years, in DP’s case. Link needed to rest. 

In solitude, his mind began to wander. 

What a complete failure his team had been. No fault of their own, just a fault of DP’s own overzealousness. Stupid Pit had to come bail him out and break the fragile pact they’d made with each other in the pizza parlor. 

The image of Pit launching himself in front of those lasers for him had been burned into the back of his brain. He’d failed to protect himself. He’d failed to protect everybody else around him. Since when did Pit give that much of a damn about him, anyway? Was it just an instance of his usual sacrificial naivety? 

All he could think about was  _ Pit. _ Both of them had been lying to everyone for the longest time, and now everyone else would surely figure out what was going on. They weren’t stupid. 

Would any of them even care? Would they suddenly see the similarities in their dispositions? Or, perhaps, the corresponding differences? Simply thinking about it made his stomach roil with dread. It was all so painfully, comically obvious, once you knew what to look for. He was just a  _ clone _ .

His own fragile ego wasn’t even the most important thing to be considering right now… God, he felt so incredibly shitty about what they’d gone through last night. Now his entire team was probably traumatized for life, and he didn’t even have the funds to pay for the therapy they’d all inevitably need-- if they weren’t killed by the end of the year, that is. All these people, leading their perfectly normal lives, until he decided to barge in with his deadly cause and ruin things for all of them.

Is this what it felt like to let somebody down?

Was it shitty of him to have never felt that feeling before?

He’d never really had… allies before. Only agreements. Of course he felt weird.

Doesn’t matter. He resolved to make it up to them as much as possible. It was the only thing he could really do. DP is a person of action, after all, not platitudes and apologies.

Everyone was gathered on the other side of his warehouse. He watched them with eyes peeking over his knees, hugged against his chest.

How does one even begin with a thing like this? He couldn’t drum up the courage to go talk to any of them right now. Apologizing for being a liar and a dangerous, sucky leader, and then expecting everyone to be totally fine with it? Not possible.

He… could do it one by one, maybe. Probably start with Link. DP owed an explanation to him more than anybody else in the room. Since Pit probably wasn’t going to show his face ever again, he was going to need to be the one to explain the clone thing and the servant thing.

His insides flipped over, telling him no, no, no, you don’t really  _ need  _ to reveal anything--

Kirby, head resting on a pillow beside him, shifted in his sleep, grabbing DP’s attention.

All those years ago… well. He hadn’t said  _ exactly  _ the same things to Kirby, but all it took was a simple ‘hey, I’m Iris,’ to put his past behind him. And Kirby didn’t care one bit  _ what  _ he was, because they were friends, and that’s all that mattered.

And his teammates were friends, were they not?

Maybe releasing his demons from the closet would help to finally quell them.

\----

**Nov 13, 9:08 am**

**ratchorus** : hey.

**ratchorus** : do you want to go on a walk later?

**ratchorus** : like in the afternoon.

**ratchorus** : since it’s been a few days since we’ve seen each other.

**ratchorus** : and i probably owe you an explanation.

**ratchorus** : several, actually.

**Nov 13, 12:27 pm**

**handsoffmykakariko** : uh sure?

**handsoffmykakariko** : like in the park by the school?

**ratchorus** : yeah that one’s fine.

**ratchorus** : and sorry.

**ratchorus** : for being a piece of shit.

**handsoffmykakariko** : ?

**ratchorus** : i’ll explain at the park.

**handsoffmykakariko** : okay?

\----

November 13th, 2019. Two hundred and thirty-one days out.

DP waited at the entrance to the park for a few minutes. No one else was around, even in the bright afternoon sunlight; the November atmosphere was oppressively cold, even though winter was still over a month away. But he didn’t care. He was never quite bothered by the cold… perhaps by virtue of being an angel? He’d never been quite sure. His mind was already busy running at a thousand miles an hour over other things, anyways.

Link eventually showed up, stumbling down the sidewalk, breath fogging up around him. “Sorry… I’m a little bit late..” he apologized, staring down at a crack in the concrete. “My father had to drive me.”

His left hand was visibly bandaged-- the result of a few broken fingers, DP assumed, wincing at the injury he had indirectly brought upon his friend. 

“You’re fine,” he sighed, observing his friend’s face. Link didn’t seem to be  _ angry, _ or frustrated, or intent on giving DP the cold shoulder in any way, like he’d expected… so Link was probably just completely confused. 

Link frowned, a little put off by DP’s lack of a usual snappy comeback. “...You okay?”

He rubbed his eyes. “It’s been a rough couple of days.”

Link just nodded, silently.

DP blinked. “Uh. What do you want to do-- I mean, would you rather walk, or sit down somewhere?”

“Walking’s fine. I’ve been sitting around for too long.”

The two of them set off down the dirt path running the rim of the park, almost automatically. It was the same path Link often walked with Pit, and the same path that he and DP had walked on many times over the past four years. Most of the trees surrounding it had lost their leaves, and DP couldn’t help but try to zone out by listening to their continuous crunching noise beneath his feet.

“So…” Link started, snapping DP out of his blank state.

“So,” he said back.

“What did you want to talk about?”

Aw, shit. He’d rehearsed his opening words a thousand times in his head, but suddenly, he blanked. “Uh,” he began, reflexively shoving his hands in the pockets of his jacket, “I guess I just wanted to fill you in about… what we didn’t tell you. Me and Pit, that is.”

Link nodded, but said nothing more.

“But I guess, before all that… I’m, uh, sorry about what happened the other night.”

Apologizing felt pathetic, but it needed to be done. Link’s blank stare didn’t help to alleviate his anxiety. “Why are you apologizing?” he asked.

“Because… people got hurt, and we all could have died, and I should have seen this coming, at least at some point-- and it was stupid of me to think that fighting supernatural powers was going to be anywhere  _ near  _ safe for you people.” He groaned, crossing his arms to curl into himself. “I’m ass at being a leader! And I’m a liar, too, and just really, really stupid--"

“This isn’t really your fault, though…” Link stammered.

“Yes it is! If I didn’t decide that starting this team would be a good idea, none of this would have happened in the first place.”

“But if there’s no team, then you can’t stop the apocalypse…”

“Link, there’s other ways I can try to avert it besides ways that involve  _ harming  _ innocent people. Look at the town! It got wrecked, so did a bunch of people, now the government’s showing up and trying to figure out what’s happening. None of this--” he gestured wildly into the distance-- “is necessary!”

Link looked back down, averting his gaze. The roiling feeling of dread returned to DP’s gut.

“I guess you’re right,” Link admitted. 

“I am.”

“So… do you want me to be mad?”

He opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. Why was he telling Link this? All he was doing was pinning the blame onto himself.

Noticing DP’s blank stare, Link tried to continue. “I don’t really think anybody’s going to say this is your fault… nobody saw this coming. You fought harder than any of us, anyways, so  _ you  _ probably deserve less blame than anybody else.” He paused, timidly shoving his hands in his pockets. “And if it’s actually the end of the world, then… you’re not the only one who wants to fight it.”

DP just frowned.

“But, uh, I’m bad at giving advice, obviously… you don’t have to listen if you don’t want to.”

He recalled what Meggy had said all those days ago--  _ might as well go down in a blaze of awesome glory. _

Nobody had to show up that night to fight the hands, but they did anyway. The fight club wasn’t just a herd of gullible animals he’d been corralling around. They were actual people that wanted to fight  _ alongside  _ him.

Ugh. All this teamwork stuff was so new. He felt like an idiot for never even considering the possibility. “You’re probably right,” DP conceded.

Link went a bit red in the face. “Really?”

“It takes a lot of leaps in logic to believe what I’ve been saying, let alone help me fight it.” He took a breath. “I… really don’t know what I’m doing with the team.”

“That’s okay,” Link reassured. “I don’t think any of us know what we’re doing.”

“Let’s talk about literally anything else,” DP laughed, attempting to alleviate some of the tension. “Everybody already knows I’m a shitty leader except me, I guess.” Link tried to object again, but DP kept talking. “Enough about me. How are  _ you  _ feeling?”

“Um--” Link pursed his lips. “I don’t really know,” he responded, eyes staring blankly down the path in front of them. “I guess I broke some fingers, but that’s okay--”

“Not physically, you dense rock.”

“Oh.”

There was silence for a few moments.

“I guess… I’ve been trying to contact Pit,” Link admitted. “But he doesn’t respond to anything, and I don’t know if he’s even still  _ here  _ or not, and I’m… worried.”

“There’s a lot you don’t know about him.”

“...I figured.”

The pit of dread-- oh, how fitting-- fell in his stomach again. His legs went weak, but he managed to steel himself.

Time for  _ the  _ explanation. Link may not have cared about the fact that DP was a shitty leader, but he’d certainly care about him being a liar, and certainly more about what he really was. How to start, how to start… “Do you remember what Pit called me, when he jumped in front of that laser?”

“Dark Pit, right?”

“Yes.”

“Then that’s what DP stands for, right?”

“Technically,” he winced. “So, um, there’s a lot of stuff I need to say, it’ll make sense in a moment--” he jerked to a pause, choosing his course of action carefully. “Why don’t you just ask me what you want to know, because I’m not entirely sure how much you  _ actually  _ know so far.”

Link furrowed his brow. “...How do you know Pit?”

Going right for the big one.

“I guess I’ve known him all my life, really. We used to live together in Skyworld, which is, like… magic realm for gods and stuff. But I left there, maybe, a thousand years ago, or so--”

“A  _ thousand  _ years?”

“Well, yeah. Angels live a really long time. Thought I’d never see him again, but then he just  _ showed up _ around here a few months ago, on some stupid mission from his goddess-- that’s why I didn’t want to let him on the team. He’s probably here to screw things up for all of us.”

Link’s expression slowly turned to alarm. “Why didn’t you say something, then?”

“We had a secret pact for a little bit. He said he joined the NFC just to watch you, and apparently nothing more. If I let him stay, I promised I wouldn’t mention anything about the fact that he’s an angel, and then he wouldn’t mention that I’m…” DP faltered, his words choking up in his throat. 

“That you’re what?”

No, no, no, don’t say anything more--

Screw his dread. He bit his lip, attempting to preface his statement with some kind of self-awareness of how weird it all was. “This is going to sound really stupid.”

“DP, I’ve seen a lot of weird things recently. This can’t be that stupid.”

“Fine, then,” he spat. “I’m a  _ clone  _ of Pit.”

Link narrowed his eyes in total confusion. “What? Like a… copy?” He spared a glance at DP. “You don’t really seem like it.”

“Pit?  _ Dark  _ Pit? Come on. Look at me and  _ think  _ about it.”

DP felt like exploding under his scrutinizing gaze.

“...I guess you sort of have the same face… and you’re both angels… that’s kind of it.”

“Tch.”

“But what do you mean by clone?”

“An  _ evil  _ clone, if you want to get super technical. A  _ failed  _ evil clone, if you want to go even farther than that,” DP burst out. “There was this mirror, okay, it makes evil copies of people based on their flaws or whatever, and I was supposed to serve the Underworld god, but Pit broke it, so I got kinda fucked up, and now I’m here,” he huffed, crossing his arms defensively.

“DP, I don’t really know what you’re talking about, but you don’t really seem all  _ that  _ fucked up.”

“Fucked up in that, I’m supposed to serve somebody, but I don’t do that. I don’t actually have a purpose.”

“Hey, you’re not purposeless--”

“I appreciate the encouragement, Link, but I’m kind of beyond angsting about the meaning of my screwed-up existence,” he bitterly laughed. “Like, by all stupid laws of the universe, I shouldn’t exist like this, but I do, and it’s my fucked-up life to live how I want. That’s why I left Pit and his goddess and Skyworld and all that shit. I went to live on my own, find my own purpose in life, without always getting compared to someone I just kind of  _ happened  _ to be associated with,” he grimaced, looking up at the sky. “Just have a  _ single  _ day in my life without someone poking fun at me for being some kind of an edgy joke, you know, like, ‘hey, there goes Dark Pit again, talking shit about the gods. Who the fuck does he think he is?’” 

He was tripping over his words. He didn’t bother trying to reign himself in. “I didn’t want Pit to tell anybody that I’m… you know, some stupid copy of him. Then all these years are for what? Everybody will know that I really  _ am  _ an edgy joke! But… here we are! I’m telling this shit to you myself! Our pact didn’t even work to begin with.”

“Well…” Link mumbled, fidgeting with the sleeve of his jacket, obviously overwhelmed by DP’s uncharacteristic outburst of pent-up frustration, “I don’t really care that you’re an evil clone, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Of  _ course  _ Link was going to say that. It was the only thing that made sense in the moment, right? DP and Pit were hardly even comparable on the spot. But, he knew, Link would begin to ruminate on it… see all their similarities… then DP would be back to being the inferior version of someone people liked better.

“DP?”

He looked back at Link, whose eyes looked concerned more than anything else.

“I’m serious. I actually don’t care. I’m not mad at you for lying about that. ‘Cause it sounds like it sucks for you.”

“Thanks for the sympathy,” he shot.

“But it does sound sucky! You’ve spent your whole life trying to do your own thing, and then…  _ this  _ just keeps coming after you, with the hand army attacking you, and the Pit thing,” Link elaborated. “So, I guess I understand why you’d wanna hide that,” he tried to smile. “You and Pit are hardly similar, anyways. He’s cheerful, and sweet, and he’s kinda got his head in the clouds, while you’re--”

“Depressing. Bitter. Too cynical for my own good,” he filled in.

“Nah, more like you’re… sensible. And honest. And you really care about what matters to you. That’s what I’d say.”

Huh.

He wanted to object again, but something of Link’s words stuck.

Not even the flipside of what Pit was. Just something… completely unrelated.

“You… really think so?”

Link simply shrugged. “Sure.”

It was hard to believe. But it felt better to cling to Link’s words, instead of continuing to loop on the same insecurity over and over again.

It was almost as Kirby had said: You’re just you, you can be DP, and that can be the end of that.

Shit. He was going to need to change his name to something marginally less stupid than his current uninspired moniker. Though, perhaps that’s something to save for later… he had bigger things to worry about right now.

It was all stupid. He  _ did  _ have his own life, and he  _ did  _ have his own friends, and they’d never known him as anything except what he really was. He wasn’t the same old teasable rogue he’d been a thousand years ago.

“Dammit. Sorry for not mentioning anything earlier, Link,” he apologized, after a moment of silence between the two of them. “It probably sucks to find out your friend is actually a demigod through  _ me  _ of all people… especially after I left you in the dark for so long.”

A pleasantly cold breeze gusted down the dirt path, sending a leaf blowing into Link’s hair. He picked it out nonchalantly. “It’s… fine,” he sighed, laughing slightly. “Everything’s kinda hard right now.”

“Everything  _ is  _ kinda hard right now! Thanks for noticing, Link.”

“So what do we do, then?”

“Keep on fighting. What else are we supposed to do?”

Enough distressing over his endless identity crisis. They had a universe to save.

\----

Though his self-confidence was a matter of stepping through a minefield right now, DP felt assured enough to tell Meggy the same things later that night. If he could admit it to Link, he could do the same for his closest friend. Here’s what she said, over the phone:

“DP, I could literally not give less of a shit. Like, this Pit guy? I’ve known him for less than a month. You’re not some rip-off of him. You’re, uh, DP, the cool guy I know who beats up floating hands ‘cos he wants to save the world, not this ‘Dark Pit’ nonsense.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, man. You’re my bestie. I’d never dump you just because some other guy you haven’t seen in a jillion years happens to be related to you in dubious ways.”

“Your ‘bestie?’ Are you sure about that?”

“Duh. Olive’s my date friend, and then  _ you’re  _ my best friend.”

Oh.

“Well… thanks,” he said quietly, smiling wide on the other side of the phone. “Thanks a lot, Meggy.”

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took a break from writing this, came back, read what I wrote, and my goodness it's a mess. I have to fix everything augh  
> it's taking all of my willpower to not go back and edit some of the earlier chapters, too (looking at you, ch. IX)


	27. XXV. Not Gone Just Yet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> meanwhile, Link attempts to figure some things out.
> 
> \----

**Mon, Nov 11, 6:16 pm**

**handsoffmykakariko** : hey are you ok?

**handsoffmykakariko** : after last night i mean since you ran off

**handsoffmykakariko** : im fine. figured you might want to know that

**handsoffmykakariko** : only broke two of my fingers haha

**handsoffmykakariko** : my dad took me to hospital. now my left fingers are all splinted

**handsoffmykakariko** : looks like ive gotta be a rightie like everyone else now

**handsoffmykakariko** : uhh anyway all this to say: how are you?

**missed call at 8:07 pm**

**handsoffmykakariko** : hey thats ok

**handsoffmykakariko** : just text or smth when you get time

Link was still reeling after the events of _that_ night. His father had come to pick him up from DP’s home that morning, and after taking one look at Link, drove him right to the hospital. What followed was an incredibly uncomfortable car conversation about leaving the house in the middle of a shelter-in-place order, the Ninten Fight Club, and magical, nonsensical destinies. 

His father took the information… better than expected, considering how stern he was most of the time. It didn’t seem like he was thrilled about the prospect of his child fighting evil space monstrosities, but he understood that it was kind of an inevitability-- especially after what had just happened to the whole town. Their conversation left Link with a feeling of unease, but also relief at the same time. It was one less thing he had to hide from his father.

One more thing to worry about, though, was Pit.

He’d vanished right after the fight was over, and Link hadn’t heard a word from him since. Not even a quick response to his string of texts. 

Part of him thought that maybe, Pit was just exhausted after last night-- everyone in the NFC was, according to the group chat-- which would make sense, right? Pit had fought off an entire army of Crazy Hands in one fell swoop. He deserved some rest more than the rest of them. He’d be back to his normal self in a couple of days.

Assuming that Link had ever known anything about his normal self, that is. The other part of him feared that… maybe he’d never see Pit again. 

Why on Earth Pit was hiding the fact that he was an angel was still beyond Link at the moment, but it was clear he _was_ hiding it, and maybe he had to leave, now that Link knew.

No, no, no, no. Link refused to believe it. Not after they’d gotten so close. Not after all this time. There was just something _different_ about him. As if they understood each other more than anyone else.

Link couldn’t lose that yet.

He went to bed at one in the morning, feeling emptier than he had in a long while.

\----

**Tue, Nov 12, 1:26 pm**

**handsoffmykakariko** : hey

**handsoffmykakariko** : are you still in town?

**handsoffmykakariko** : or did you go?

Link winced at the directness of the message. But he _had_ to know. Maybe Pit’s real home-- if that’s where he’d gone, of course-- didn’t have cell service? If that was the case, maybe Pit wasn’t getting his messages in the first place.

Where did he even live, anyways? Heaven?

Sounds a whole lot nicer than here.

**Tue, Nov 12, 7:33 pm**

**handsoffmykakariko** : makin soup

**handsoffmykakariko** : kinda hard to do with just my right hand

**handsoffmykakariko** : heres a pic

Chicken noodle soup. Link really needed it right about now.

He shared dinner with his father. For once, it was peaceful. No small talk, no dodging uncomfortable questions.

“You seem down… is something the matter?” his father asked, but then bit his lip. “Besides what happened the other night, of course.”

Should he tell him about the whole Pit thing? Well… it was weighing on his mind like a bag of bricks. He really needed to talk to _someone_ about it, even if it happened to be his dad of all people.

Link poked his soup around with his spoon. “You know my friend Pit, right?”

“Of course.”

“Kinda turned out he’s… sort of a god. Not a literal god, but he’s… with them.”

His father tilted his head. “The ones you and your friends are fighting?”

“Y-yes. He left us after everything was over the other night. I haven’t heard from him since, so I’m kind of afraid he’s left… forever.”

“Hm,” he hummed. “Perhaps he did. I don’t know.” But upon seeing his child’s face break out into unusual concern, he quickly tried to correct himself. “But, um, then again, he may have not. I don’t really know anything about this situation… I’m sorry, Link.”

“I’ll… it’s fine. I’ll figure it out myself.” Link sighed, unable to bring himself to say anymore than that.

He went to put the rest of the soup away in the fridge. Looks like he made way too much. As usual. After everything that had happened in the recent, though, he was going to need the leftovers.

\----

**Wed, Nov 13, 6:47 pm**

**handsoffmykakariko** : hey pit

**handsoffmykakariko** : just wanted to tell you im not mad

**handsoffmykakariko** : if thats what you think

Dammit. What else should he say?

Link collapsed onto his bed, setting his phone down on his chest. 

Just an hour or so ago, he’d been walking in the park with DP, who had tried his best to explain everything to him. It all sounded like a mess. Turns out Link really had _no_ idea what Pit’s life was actually like. 

He’d had many more questions to ask, but the whole matter obviously made DP very uncomfortable, so he held his tongue.

It hurt, a little bit, that two of his closest friends had been lying in tandem to him for… quite some time. DP especially-- he had no reason not to just _tell_ Link about who Pit really was, outside of probably protecting his own ego; in the end, who really cares if he’s an evil copy of Pit? DP had far and away proven himself to be as far from that as possible.

Link immediately felt a pang of guilt in his stomach. That’s harsh of you to say.

What hurt more was the fact that Link may not have known the actual Pit at all. Was everything between the two of them carefully calculated for an ulterior motive, or was it genuine?

Surely, it must have been genuine. All their lunches together or vulnerable talks or walks in the woods or moments holding hands without really realizing it… that felt so _real_.

And that look in his blue eyes, as he ran away through the fire. It was genuine fear. A fear that Link would despise him now that he knew the truth.

But that wasn’t true. Link could never despise him, even if he had every right in the world to do so.

It hurt the most to wonder if Pit felt otherwise.

\----

**Thu, Nov 14, 10:12 am**

**handsoffmykakariko** : uhh just saying good morning

**handsoffmykakariko** : good morning!

**handsoffmykakariko** : tried to play my dog in mash sisters just now. hes kinda bad at it

**handsoffmykakariko** : he just sits there with his paw on the stick, so he ran off stage all 3 times 

**handsoffmykakariko** : anyway hows your morning?

Twilight fell asleep in his lap as Link agonized over his messages. He probably looked stupid with his string of uninterrupted texts spanning upwards in their chat for a good while. But he wanted to hear from Pit again, more than anything else right now. He didn’t care how many awkward messages he had to send before it happened.

Distract yourself.

Lazily, he opened the online school newsletter, sent periodically by email. Why was he reading this? He never cared about this stuff.

_The Ninten Direct_

_Your Latest in Online Ninten Academy News Updates_

_by Samantha Squirt, Ivy Sorel, Charlie Zarr, and Red Trainor, Direct editors_

_\--Sunday’s Attack--_

_By now, we’re sure you all know of the terrifying attack these mysterious hands waged on our town last Sunday, causing untold amounts of property damage, injuring 11, and shutting our school down for the next week. Firstly, we editors would like to extend our sympathies to any of you who were seriously affected by the--_

Ugh. Not this. Literally anything but this. He was so _tired_ of thinking about the attack. Didn’t these people have anything better to talk about?

\----

**Fri, Nov 15, 12:04 am**

**handsoffmykakariko:** look at the moon outside right now

**handsoffmykakariko** : its so big

He could still see the faintest bits of the moon through the covers pulled over his body. Maybe Pit was looking at it right now… like some sort of indirect connection between them… because the moon was always the same, no matter where you were… unless he was on the other side of the planet… or, maybe not even on the planet anymore… 

He closed his eyes for a moment, relaxing into the black nothingness.

And then it began to glow blue.

The familiar darkened forest of trees formed around him… which was actually fine this time, he thought, coming back into his senses. If he was going to have to face Navi, perhaps she could offer him some advice.

Speak of the devil-- there she was. “Hey, Link,” Navi greeted, floating up to look him in the eyes, “Did you miss me?”

“I…” he stuttered, “Forgot you were around.”

“You _what?_ Forgot about me? Just because I’ve been knocked out cold for however long doesn’t mean you can point-blank _forget I exist!_ ”

“I’m sorry…” he eked out. “I’ve been busy.”

“Well, with what?”

He paused.

“Do you know an angel named Pit?”

Navi narrowed her eyes. “Pit? What kind of a stupid name is that? If you’re talking about that kid that ran off the other night, no, _I don’t_ know him! Why the hell do you expect me to?”

“I don’t know… since you, um, know about the angels, right?”

“Yeah, I do, but there were a _lot_ of them before they all died. Stupid light goddess kept churning them out. Like-- oh, look, everyone in my little army’s dying off. Better get ‘er filled back up with _more_ of these nuisances!” Navi sighed, crossing her arms. “Plus, guess who’s been stuck in a sword for the past gajillion years? All the angels I ever knew would have died from age by now if they were still around.”

Churning out an army… what, exactly, was the grand scheme that Pit was a part of?

“Navi?” he started, but faltered over the question.

“What? Say it, Link, I’ll answer your question.”

“It’s-- nothing. Sorry for bothering you.”

He thought he saw her face contort into an expression of pity, but she had already released him back into the lull of sleep.

\----

**Sat, Nov 16, 11:38 am**

**handsoffmykakariko** : heya

**handsoffmykakariko** : just checking in. how are you?

**handsoffmykakariko** : im alright. having chicken noodle soup for breakfast haha

**missed call at 11:45 am**

...Was it even worth it anymore? Pit was never going to respond.

He felt like crying right into his lukewarm soup.

And he did cry, much later, trying to fall asleep in the dead of the night.

\----

**Sun, Nov 17, 12:02 pm**

**handsoffmykakariko** : good morning

**handsoffmykakariko** : or afternoon by now whoops :P

**handsoffmykakariko** : theyre sending us back to school tomorrow

**handsoffmykakariko** : i will be there, obviously

**handsoffmykakariko** : back to the grind right?

Link tried to _rationalize_ it all in his brain. That’s what Zelda would probably say to do.

He’d only known Pit for… about three months. Just three months. That’s not a very long period of time. Hardly enough to get to know someone deeply. Pit was just some random person, passing into his life, and then out of it. Sure, they related, but it’s not hard to relate to being a lonely, existential teenager. Link was probably surrounded by a hundred other people just like himself every day at school, if he only looked around.

But none of them were Pit.

He fell asleep crying again.

\----

Monday, November 18th, 2019. Two hundred and twenty-six days out.

Maybe Pit would be at school today, Link hoped, in an irrational sort of way.

He wasn’t, of course, as the sinking feeling of dread in his gut had been telling him all morning. Link scanned the halls all during lunch period in a vain attempt to spot him. Not in their usual spot outside, not under the bulletin board in the cafeteria, not with the rest of the NFC, not doing trigonometry in the library, not even in any classrooms.

Link could hardly focus all day. Zelda tried to intervene during calculus, but he just shrugged her off. How could she help? She hardly even knew Pit.

...That’s unfair. She’s just looking out for him, right?

He couldn’t bring himself to talk with her after school.

\----

Tuesday, November 19th, 2019. Two hundred and twenty-five days out.

Still no sign of Pit at school. All of Link’s texts and missed calls still went unnoticed.

Shulk approached him in the halls after school that day. “Hey,” he started, startling Link out of his contemplation, “Do you know if Pit is still around? He wasn’t at rehearsal yesterday, and I wanted to make sure he was fine, after… well, you know.”

Link shrugged dejectedly. “Haven’t even heard from him since the attack.”

“That’s, uh, concerning. We need our spot guy!”

“You might need to find someone else. Pit may have left forever… I’m not sure.”

“Left _forever?_ That’s kind of extreme.” Shulk put a hand to his chin, expression a bit alarmed. “Maybe we should try to visit him at his house? See if he’s still there?”

Oh.

Link had briefly thought of the idea, though he’d shrugged it off, as it seemed intrusive to show up at someone’s house without their permission. But hearing it from someone like Shulk made it sound far less creepy.

“You know, I don’t know where he lives,” Link lied, not wanting Shulk to invade the plan already formulating in his mind. “But that’s a good idea.”

That’s what he’d do, he decided. He’d go over to Pit’s home after school that day. He could even bring over all the extra chicken noodle soup he’d made as an excuse for randomly showing up.

It seemed completely improbable that Pit would even be there. But it was the one ray of hope that Link still had to cling onto at this point.

\----

**Tue, Nov 19, 4:15 pm**

**handsoffmykakariko** : heya

**handsoffmykakariko** : i’m gonna bring some soup over, since i have so much

**handsoffmykakariko** : hope thats okay?

Whether or not Pit was okay with it was the last thing on Link’s mind as he made the short trip over to his friend’s house. He was far too preoccupied with worries about what would happen-- would Pit turn out to really be some hateful demigod, just like Navi? Would Teyna… er, Palutena, smite Link on the spot for even daring to show up now? Worst of all, what would he do if they were _gone?_

No, no. Stop thinking about that.

He still felt his stomach churning with nervous discomfort the whole way over.

The house didn’t look… abandoned, when Link finally arrived. There was still a car in the driveway. The porch lights were on. He tried peering in through the thin vertical windows on either side of the front door, but could make out nothing inside the house.

Just ring the doorbell.

With great hesitation, Link slowly pressed down on the button. The tensest thirty seconds of his life passed.

Someone opened the door. 

Otherworldly blue eyes stared back at him.

There he was; it was Pit, he _hadn’t_ left, he was still here, and he seemed fine, everything was okay, and every fearful feeling Link had suddenly melted away, because he was _here_ , at the door--

Pit’s face immediately went pale. He slammed the door shut in Link’s face.

“Wait, Pit!--” Link tried to call out, but he was already gone.

Muffled shouts were heard from inside.

Dammit. 

Had Pit actually been trying to avoid him this whole time? Because if so, then… ouch. He frantically rang the doorbell again. He’d come all this way, spent all those days agonizing over Pit’s whereabouts, and it was too late to turn around and forget everything.

Palutena answered the door a few moments later. Link was suddenly blasted by those weird vibes once again. Probably the vibes of being in a divine presence, he realized. 

“H-hello,” Link squeaked out, feeling incredibly inferior with his dinky container of chicken noodle soup held close to his chest.

“Hello, Link, she smiled back. “Sorry about Pit. He’s, uh, been having a rough couple of days.”

Her green eyes were cordial, yet intense. He averted his gaze. “I brought soup, if you want it…”

Palutena quickly glanced back inside, and then back to Link once more. “Why don’t you come in for a bit? I, ah, probably owe you an explanation, since you’re here.”

It was sort of like the first time he’d visited Pit’s house; once again, he was shocked about his mom: first, that she was a famous movie star. Now, she also happened to be a goddess, of all things. Link kind of wanted to puke from the mounting anxiety.

“I’ll take the soup,” she offered. “You can sit on the couch over there, if you’d like.” Link just nodded and scurried over to the sitting area.

Palutena soon joined him, sitting cross-legged in an armchair on the other side of the room, not paying any mind to his freaked-out expression. “So, Link,” she began, “I’d assume you have a lot of questions, at this point. Has Pit told you anything about us?”

“N-no. But DP told me a bunch of things the other day--”

“Ah,” she nodded. “I imagine he told you a lot, did he not?”

“Like, about how Pit’s on some mission to stalk me… and you’re his goddess…”

“Indeed I am. Palutena, the Goddess of Light, and currently, the protector of the human race. Though I’ve also been tasked with making sure you progress towards your ultimate… destiny, fate, goal, whatever you’d like to call it,” she explained, gesturing her hand around in the air.

“That’s why you’re here, then,” Link assumed, sinking down into the plush cushions of the sofa. “You’ve sent Pit to watch me, right?”

“...Yes, that’s what our plan is. At least at the current moment.”

He glanced up towards the staircase. Is that where Pit had run off to? 

“You’d like to chat with him, wouldn’t you?” Palutena asked, obviously noticing Link’s sidelong gaze. “There’s probably only so much I can say on his behalf.”

“Does-- does he want to?”

Palutena folded her hands in her lap. “He’s been lamenting all week about what happened on that night. I’d say he’s more than willing to give you a few words.”

Lamenting all week. So had Link. Perhaps they felt the same?

“Where is he?”

“He ran off into his room,” she chuckled. “If you go upstairs, he should be in the door on the far left side of the hallway. Just make sure to knock. He gets spooked pretty easily.”

Link stood up, but then turned back to Palutena. “Are you sure it’s fine to just… barge in?”

She waved a hand dismissively. “Trust me, you can go ahead. You’ll do him some good.”

Palutena was oddly flippant about the whole thing, Link noticed, as he carefully treaded up the wooden staircase. Maybe she thought their falling-out was a bit trivial. And it kind of was, right? It would have been so easy to have done this literally a week earlier. Maybe then Link could’ve avoided all the anguished nights. And maybe he could’ve spared Pit from all this lamenting Palutena suggested he was doing.

Good job being a crappy friend, Link.

The door on the far left…

He hesitated, for one long moment, hand held right in front of the slightly ajar door. Anything could happen beyond the threshold. He was dead terrified of what it would be.

Just go.

\--------

Pit’s room was hardly lived in. It was stark, as minimalist as the rest of the house was-- a ceiling fan spinning at its top speed, a closet in one corner with some scrunched-up clothes spilling out of it, his usual twin blades strewn on the wooden floor in another corner, and a few large windows, afternoon light leaking through white curtains. The only things of note inside were the bay windows. In front of them was a small space; a ledge covered with a cushion, with a dark blue blanket and a couple of pillows tossed on top of it. Pit slept scrunched up inside of there, blocked from the rest of the house by a pair of the same white curtains drawn over the enclosure.

The view out the window-wall reminded him of home, if he was ever away during the night. He couldn’t stand to sleep without being surrounded by the sky.

When Link had shown up at the door, he’d ran as fast as he could into this spot in front of the windows and pulled the curtains shut, intent on hiding from him.

Pit wasn’t ready to talk to Link yet, and he doubted he’d ever be able to. He knew Link wasn’t mad with him at all-- his incessant texts all week certainly proved it to be so. But Link _should_ be mad. He’d been completely lied to, after all, and the guilt of it all had been crushing Pit the whole week. Pit wasn’t the easygoing, normal friend Link had been fooled into believing he was. He was quite the opposite, actually. Dangerous. Traitorous. Completely untrustworthy, and _not_ normal at all. 

Maybe Link wasn’t mad right now, but what would he say, once he realized that the two of them were opposed? Link wanted to save the world. Pit had to help destroy it. Link would never be able to trust him again if he would just realize that fact.

Pit was _terrified_ of losing his only friend. 

Why was he trying to condemn himself in his mind?

Maybe he really wanted Link to condemn him. Then he wouldn’t have to worry about completing his duties anymore.

When Link tentatively pushed the door to his room open, Pit didn’t even try to stop him.

“Pit?” Link called out, faltering by the entrance. “It’s uh, me.”

Silence.

“Sorry if I’m intruding…”

More silence.

Pit suddenly yanked the curtains open. He stared intensely back at Link, eyes wide in pale fear. “What are you doing here?” he breathed.

“I--” Link began, but then faded, out, completely unsure of what to say. “...I, uh, just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” he finally eked out, after a long moment.

Pit didn’t say anything in response. He just let his fraught gaze fall to the empty floor.

“I’m not mad at you, if that’s what you’re worried about--”

“Why not?”

Link blinked in surprise. “I mean… I know you’re serving the gods or something-- that’s what DP said, at least, he said a lot of things--” Damn it. How much had Pittoo said? Did he call Pit _a shitbag_ for everything he’d done? “--but I don’t really know why. Why I’m not mad. I guess I’m just not.”

He burst out, fear mounting in his throat, unable to withhold his feelings anymore. “But I _lied_ to you. Everything I said when we first met? That wasn’t even me, that was just me saying stuff that people were telling me to say. You’re only here right now because I _faked_ that into happening,” Pit sputtered, crossing his arms defensively. “You hardly even know who I am!”

“That’s not true--”

“Yes it is! You don’t know why I’m here, hell, you hardly even know _what_ I am, because all I’ve done is hide from you. For all you know, I don’t even _care_ what happens to you.”

Link’s face screwed up in sudden frustration, as if a deluge of emotions he’d been holding onto had completely burst open. “You know what, Pit? There’s so much I don’t know. Clearly! These past months have been nothing but insane revelations over and over. But you know what I know?” He paused again, his assumption choking up in his throat. “You’re... afraid, right?”

Pit went silent. Link was right. He really was afraid, at the bottom of his soul. 

“You couldn’t possibly be afraid right now if you didn’t care about me. So… I guess,” Link sighed, taking the silence as a yes. “I’d like to imagine that some part of you was true.”

They stared awkwardly at each other.

“But so much isn’t,” Pit tried to continue, but Link suddenly kneeled down to grab his hand, shutting him up immediately.

Warm as always. His stomach started fluttering, and he found himself focused on nothing but Link.

“How much of… uh, everything, was true?” Link asked. “If you want to answer, that is.”

“I don’t really know…” Pit began, but his head started spinning as he tried to recall all the events of the past few months, and he started rambling. “Nothing in the start. None of that was real. Except for, uh, I was supposed to act like I normally do, but I'm really not as blindly cheerful as I come off sometimes. Or I’d like to think that, but what do I really know? Nothing. But the bus ride was fake, the math homework was fake, all of that was fake, just to get you to trust me more--”

Link squeezed his hand. Pit stopped, going a bit red in embarrassment. “Why were you sent to find me? Maybe that’s a better place to start.”

He swallowed, taking a moment to piece his words together. “I… I’m supposed to watch you. Make sure you’re prepared enough to fight when the apocalypse happens. So Lady Palutena, uh, she and I went undercover to do that, because we didn’t want you… finding out about this stuff, or have to take you away from your home.”

“And why not?”

“Fate’s kinda cruel, I guess. We didn’t want you to worry about this stuff.”

Link smiled, a bit ruefully. “That’s more merciful than deceptive, really.”

Pit sighed. “That doesn’t matter. I’m still trying to end the world.”

“Do you want to?”

No.

No, he really didn’t.

“I don’t know,” Pit replied, as vaguely as possible. “But I have to. It’s duty.”

Link tilted his head to the side. “You… do know that NFC’s trying to convince that Galeem guy to change his mind, right? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind a convincing argument from someone like you. You’re one of his own kind.” And then, with an added grimace of confusion, “Sort of.”

That’s what he’d heard in passing. But surely that wouldn’t work, Galeem and Dharkon were beings far beyond the mental scope of anyone. Surely they wouldn’t even be given a chance. The supreme gods were looming, overseeing threats, completely untouchable. “They wouldn’t listen,” Pit argued, voice dropping quiet.

Link shrugged. “It’s better than nothing.”

Better than nothing. It was a chance. An infinitely small chance, but a chance nonetheless.

The pleading expression on Link’s face was obvious. He so desperately wanted Pit to stick around, join the cause, as impossible as that might be, and it felt like a stab in the heart just thinking about how… alone Link would feel, if Pit abandoned him. He couldn’t leave his _friend_ like that.

Palutena wouldn’t want him to do this. But...

Maybe now he’d have an excuse to keep playing pretend with Ninten Fight Club.

“...You’d still let me join you?” Pit tentatively asked, after a moment of silence.

“Pit, I might not know where you’ve come from, or any of that stuff, but dammit, you’re my friend. And I know you have good intentions.” Slowly, the two of them looked at each other once again. “Maybe you’re not as normal as I thought, but you still listen, you still care, and maybe we started out weird, but I’d say you’re pretty genuine. And I wouldn’t want you to leave for anything.”

Link was someone who cared. Even if he literally didn’t have a reason to. That’s how he’d always been, right? It was clearer than ever here, in the way Link’s usual ineloquent words sent a tidal wave of comfort washing over Pit. 

“Thanks,” he mumbled, as Link finally released his hand.

Another moment of silence.

He patted the ledge to the side of him. “...You wanna sit up here? I feel bad making you sit on the floor.”

Link hoisted himself off the ground, nestling in right next to Pit. “Nice spot you’ve got here,” he remarked, looking around in the enclosure. “Do you sleep in here?”

“Sometimes.”

“Are those glow-in-the-dark stars on the window?”

Oh, the dumb stars… he went a bit red. “Yeah. Got them from the dollar store, because they seemed fun. But they don’t work that well, aha…”

“I have some on the ceiling in my room, too,” Link related, smiling slightly. “I put them there when I was a little kid. Never bothered to take them down.”

“I like ‘em. Sorta reminds me of home, you know?”

“What _is_ your home?”

“Skyworld,” he responded, suddenly feeling sentimental. “I bet DP told you about it. It’s basically Lady Palutena’s domain, but she and me are the only people ever up there. It’s mostly just chunks of land floating in the sky, but the view’s _incredible_. You can see all the stars at night. No crappy light pollution up there. Just clouds for miles and miles.”

It was a bit of a lonely place, in spite of the view. 

Link furrowed his brow. “Doesn’t it get sort of empty up there?”

“I guess,” he sighed, “but you get used to it.”

“That sucks. You’d be... alone all the time.”

But that made sense, right? He was an angel, stuck in the weird space between being a god and a human person. And even if he wasn’t, he was still annoying, as every god he’d ever met had said so, for the longest time; so there was perfectly good reason to be alone. “Well, it’s fine by me,” Pit laughed, trying to shoulder off the unfortunate reality. “That’s just how my life works.”

“That _completely_ sucks!” Link burst out. “And you’re okay with this?”

He wanted to say, ‘of course,’ but he bit his tongue before the words could come out. Instead, he just rested his head in his hands, leaning over defeatedly.

“No.”

And then Link’s arms were suddenly around him in the most awkward sitting-hunched-over-next-to-each-other hug possible.

Oh.

Sturdy, yet gentle, at the same time. The arms of someone steadfast. Someone who wouldn’t abandon him for anything in the world. Pit just let himself melt into the embrace.

“S-sorry,” Link apologized, the sudden red coloring his face going unnoticed. “I’m not that good at advice. I hope… this is fine.”

It was completely fine. It was so fine, that all his sputtering brain could think to blurt out was, “You’re really warm,” muffled under layers of Link’s oversized green jacket.

“...Thanks?”

“You’re welcome?”

They stayed like that for a few minutes, in a clumsy tangle.

“Hey,” Link said softly, over Pit’s shoulder, “Even if you’re an angel, and even if you think you’re some traitor, and I do die in a few months… and everything’s destroyed… I’ll still be here before that happens. So don’t be sad on your own in Skyworld.”

“Well, then, I’m not going anywhere, either,” Pit promised in return.

Maybe nothing up to this point had been genuine, but nothing could convince Pit that this singular moment was not-- just two people, in a cathartic embrace, the closest either of them had felt to anyone in a very long time.

Gods, Link was amazing. Instantly forgiving, and he didn’t even need a reason to care. He just kind of did. Maybe it was a sick prank of fate that Pit had found this particular person when he did, right before the end of the world, but… he was perfectly happy, for once, at least in the moment.

And that was all he needed.

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just think they're neat :)


	28. XXVI. Tour de Skyworld

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 36,000 feet in the air...
> 
> \----

**Wed, Nov 20, 4:02 pm**

**monadopower47** : Pit!

**monadopower47** : Link says you’re not dead, which is great!

**monadopower47** : We also really need you! At school! On the spotlights!

**monadopower47** : geez.

**monadopower47** : I just sounded like a demanding arse there. So sorry. :/

**monadopower47** : i super hope you’re doing alright… things are weird! Reyn and Fiora say hi. And so does Akira.

**monadopower47** : Actually, he told me specifically to tell you ‘Salutations.’ 

**monadopower47** : how extra of him. 

**monadopower47** : let me stop clogging up your phone with my ramblings. Hope to see you soon!

...Well, he was going to have to go back to school sooner or later. Saving the tech crew was probably as good a reason as any.

\----

Thursday, November 21st, 2019. Two hundred and twenty-three days out.

The plan was still the same: keep an eye on Link. By some miracle, getting his cover blown hadn’t ruined his mission at all. 

Though, now he had a new thought in his mind-- could the Ninten Fight Club _actually_ convince the supreme gods to revoke their plan? It seemed improbable, but now that Pit was beginning to have a life…

A _life_. Thinking about all that the phrase implied sent his mind reeling.

Now that he was beginning to have _a life_ outside of being an angel, he was willing to believe in any slim chance to keep it that way.

In any case, watching Link still meant going to school. He’d missed quite a few days of classes; work had piled up, which would have been a problem, except for the fact that Palutena was always there in his mind to basically feed him answers and make it all exceptionally easy. Most subjects in school were completely beyond him-- trigonometry? He barely knew how to do basic algebra. English? Yeah, he had finally conquered his illiteracy, but that didn’t mean he was any good at analysis. Chemistry made absolutely no sense, but that was okay, as long as he kept his clumsy hands far away from any dangerous chemicals. History was actually fine… mostly because he’d experienced first-hand the events they covered in class.

What _wasn’t_ fine was running into some of the members of the NFC in the halls, right before lunch, walking with Link on his way to their normal spot outside. Pit wasn’t exactly ready to confront them quite yet. Confronting Link was hard enough, and he wasn’t even angry with Pit.

“...And it was all casual fun until Robespierre’s gang decided to turn on him. Then it was peak comedy. Everyone was turning on each other. People were beheading people every day, it was the funniest shit imaginable. I’d wake up in the morning, and heads were already rolling--”

“HEY! It’s Link! _And_ Pit! He’s not dead!”

Meggy, Lucas, and… Pittoo, the usual lunch crowd, happened to sneak up on the duo. Pit immediately whipped around, startled by Meggy’s shrill yell from fifteen feet down the hall.

Aw, heck.

Pit paled, sliding a little closer to Link’s side. At the other side of the hall, DP stood rigid, glancing around nervously. Lucas noticed, eyes concerned, mumbling something indiscernible to him.

Meggy sauntered over to Link and Pit. “So, Pitty. Pitiful. Arm Pit. How’s life been treating you?” she asked in an attempt to be as casual as possible.

Pit wasn’t paying attention to her. Instead, he’d made nervous eye contact with the other angel behind her. “...Fine,” he eked out.

Meggy squinted at him. She then turned to squint at DP. 

“Uh, _clearly_ there’s some unresolved tension here,” she pointed out, immediately reading the room. “Maybe the school hall isn’t the best place to have a nice chat about that?”

Link put a hand on Pit’s shoulder, leading him away. “Probably not… we’re going outside, if you need us.”

That sounded nice. He needed some air.

Meggy winked. “Sounds great to me. Let’s go, boys.” And with that, she walked off in the other direction, the other two hesitantly in tow. “See you around, Pit-stain!”

“Don’t call him that,” he heard DP grumble.

The time to confront DP would be at some point, but certainly not right now. His stomach dropped just thinking about how poorly it would probably go… when it eventually happened.

It was quite cold outside. Link shivered against the brick wall, pulling the hood of his green jacket up, sitting with his knees pulled against his chest.

Pit, being an angel, didn’t really get all that affected by extreme temperatures, so he offered Link the same old brown cardigan he’d been wearing since the summer. “You want this?”

Link snatched it hesitantly. “...Sure.”

He looked like a little rabbit poking out of a hole in the ground. Pit tried not to smile to himself.

“So, how’s everything been at the old Academy?” he asked, taking a bagel out of a paper bag. “Shulk’s starting to freak out about the play… even though they pushed it all the way to January after the week off. Marth and some other guys kept complaining about having it run right before finals week.”

“It’s been uneventful,” Link shrugged. “Lots of homework. Lots of classwork. Zelda’s been swamped, I feel really bad for her. But it’s all super average on my end.”

“And how’s the rest of the NFC?”

“Meggy’s just fine… So’s Akira, and Lucas, too… Ness broke his arm in the fight, but he’s been showing it off and letting everyone sign his cast.”

Pit looked down at the ground. There was really just one person he was interested in the state of. “...And how’s DP?”

Link took a moment to ponder his words. “Well, I think he’s doing alright,” he began, swallowing a bite of a ham sandwich. “Maybe better than before, actually? I didn’t really know about all of the, uh, _clone_ stuff until now, but it seems like he was feeling really crappy about it for a while.”

Pit had never known DP to be _that_ sensitive about it, at least in the past. It was always kind of something he’d shrugged off. But if you never ask, you never really know the truth.

“He told me everything,” Link continued, “He said he wasn’t saying anything ‘cause he didn’t want me comparing him to you. That’s kinda bogus, right? You’re not even close to the same person. I told him it was fine, and now he’s calmed down.” He furrowed his brows. “At least, I hope.”

“I never thought he cared about being a clone all that much,” Pit considered. “But I don’t think he ever liked me enough to vent about it to me.”

Link pulled the end of a tomato out of his sandwich, flicking it onto the pavement. “Maybe. But I really have no clue. You should probably ask him yourself.”

Eh ...eventually.

The two of them went silent after that, content enough to just sit around next to each other. 

Hm.

Pit seriously needed to get his mind off of all of this stuff-- that’s what Palutena would probably say, right? Too much anxiety, not enough results. Shelve it for another day.

An idea started to form in his mind.

“Want to go to Skyworld?” Pit blurted out.

“Uh… what?”

“You know, Skyworld? It’s where I live most of the time?”

Link raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I know. But can we even get up there?”

“Oh, sure. Did you think I was stuck down here?”

“Kinda...”

“Psh. We’ve got a direct portal there in the house. It’s what any self-respecting god would do,” Pit informed, grinning slightly. “We could go after school today-- oh, wait, after I’m done with rehearsal, if you’re free.”

Link blinked, a bit surprised at how easy it all sounded. “That sounds… really cool, actually.”

“Let’s do it, then!”

\----

Pit hadn’t taken a human up to Skyworld in an extremely long time. Partially because it was unsafe, with the whole falling-off-the-edge-to-your-death dilemma, partially because there really wasn’t anyone he’d wanted to bring to begin with. But Pit knew that Link would love Skyworld-- he always enjoyed being outside and just chilling around, and the view from thousands of feet up in the air would not be one to miss. 

It was about time he made some more good memories up there, anyways. Too much depressing philosophizing was done while dangling his feet off of one of its floating islands.

After rehearsal for Hamlet ended (it was a bit of a rush; Shulk was _extremely_ glad to have him back, and started assigning him a million things to do) Link and Pit rode over to his house on the Master Cycle (Pit got a massive kick out of the name when Link reluctantly told him of it), and quickly stepped through the glowing tear in reality squirreled away inside of a side room in the basement.

“Woah,” was all Link said when he stepped through to the other side.

This side of the portal was housed in a small, slightly destroyed pavilion of marble, atop a tiny chunk of land floating off to the side of the large one that Palutena’s grandiose temple was located on. Pit watched as Link stood agape at the massive sight before him.

“Pretty cool, right?” he remarked, with a sweeping gesture.

“You _live_ here?”

“Well, yeah. Most of the time. That giant thing--” he jerked a thumb to the temple-- “is Lady Palutena’s homebase, basically, and then everything else is just old buildings, like this one. I think they served a purpose, at some point? I don’t really know. It was like this when I was born.” He pointed up towards a specific spot in the temple-- a small area towards the with a blue banner outside the window, waving in the wind. “That’s my room up there.”

Link looked up to where Pit pointed, and then down to the abyss of clouds below, and then out to the empty space between the portal’s island and the main one. “...How do we get over?”

Oh, right.

“Give me a sec,” Pit called over his shoulder, stepping back through the portal.

He yelled up the basement staircase. “PALUTENA! I NEED TO FLY!”

“SURE THING, PIT!

“Okay, sort of forgot about the flying thing,” he remarked, coming back out the other side.

“The what?”

In a moment, Pit summoned his wings, which unfurled in a flash of white feathers. Link stood gawking. “Can’t fly on my own. Gotta get Palutena to do it, then I get five minutes of air time before I incinerate.”

“That… kinda sucks,” Link replied, after a moment of staring back at Pit with wide eyes. 

“Oh, it’s no problem,” he shrugged. “I’m completely used to it at this point.”

Link had been wide-eyed at everything he’d encountered in the last two minutes, really. It was kind of hilarious. This was all normal for Pit, but for Link, he’d just wandered into a god’s domain, some thirty-six thousand feet up in the air, and Pit tended to forget that fact.

“Hope you’re not afraid of flying,” he winked.

Link smirked. “Not at all.”

Of course he wouldn’t be. “Just hop on my back! I’ll carry you up.”

“Are you sure you can? I’m not exactly… small.”

“Heeeeeey, I’m way stronger than I look.”

“Whatever you say.”

A bit awkwardly, Pit bent over, allowing Link to sort of flop onto his back. It took a bit of finagling around with his wings, but eventually, Pit got his arms around Link’s legs, and Link’s, around his shoulders.

“I feel like a baby,” Link remarked. “Like a really fat baby getting toted around in one of those… baby backpacks. I don’t really know what they’re called.”

Pit snorted, standing up straight. “I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“You know, those little pouches with the leg holes that parents wear and stick their kids in? You’ve never seen one of those?”

“Link, I haven’t really been on earth in the last forty years. There’s a _ton_ of stuff I’ve never seen.”

“That’s kinda sad--”

“Oh, shut up and hold on. I’m gonna take off!”

Link tried to sputter something out in response, but by that time, Pit had already felt the familiar warm light of the power of flight through his wings. With a running start, he bounded off the side of the floating island.

A blast of wind to the face. They tumbled in free-fall for the briefest of stomach-dropping seconds.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!”

Wow. Pit had no idea that the ever-quiet Link was capable of making noises that loud. “You know you don’t need to scream directly into my ears, right?” he called back, straightening out as he began to ascend higher into the sky.

“Sorry!” Link apologized. He looked directly upwards, and screamed out at the sky instead.

“A-are you okay?”

“Are you kidding? This is _insane_!”

Flying directly to his balcony would have only taken a few seconds. But he had a whole five minutes of flight to waste. No enemies to fight, no objective to fulfill. Just them and the endless open sky. Pit smirked to himself-- Link was going to get the joyride of his life.

He decided to take a sudden nosedive, headed directly for the cloud cover floating just below the islands, boastfully twirling as he went. Link was still screaming to the sky, but it was all interspersed with crazy laughter.

It was an especially clear evening-- the autumn sun was just beginning to set behind them, casting a fading yellow light onto the clouds as they broke through. Down below was, simply, the Earth, all of its locations blending together in segments of green and blue.

“What’s down there?” Link shouted, above the whipping wind.

Pit laughed. “You tell me. I have absolutely no idea!”

And then they began to ascend again, blitzing back through the cloud cover and bursting out on the other side. Link gripped his shoulders even harder, suddenly ducking his head right next to Pit’s in an attempt to hold on as tightly as possible. Both of them looked at each other for the briefest of moments; Pit’s eyes, squinting in the oncoming wind, met Link’s, blown wide with the thrill. So very, very close together. He quickly turned away, and instead tried to point below him without letting go of his iron grip around Link’s leg.

“See? That’s all Skyworld down there!”

He stopped, leveling out. They were far above the portal island they had arrived on by now. 

Link sat up, staring down into the cloudy, golden abyss. “It’s huge!”

“Yeah, it’s pretty big.”

Drat. He suddenly felt the tips of his wings begin to warm, just the slightest bit. Looks like their five minutes were almost up. Once more, Pit descended.

“Okay, here we are,” he announced, as he attempted to land on the balcony as gracefully as possible (so, perhaps, not all that gracefully, especially with another person on his back). “Hope you didn’t mind the, uh, slight detour.” Link slid off, tried to find his balance, but instead tumbled over to the ground, laughing hysterically. Pit couldn’t help but join in too with his usual strange giggling.

“You can just… do that?” Link finally managed to get out after a moment of gaining his bearings.

Pit brushed a couple loose feathers out of a wing, flicking them off the side of the balcony. “Sorta. But yeah!”

“Man, I kind of wish I was an angel now. You’d never see me again.”

“It does have its… perks.”

He faltered in the middle of his response-- Link had yanked his incredibly tangled, wind-blown hair out of its usual ponytail, and was trying to brush it out of his eyes. It was very much all over the place, but so pretty… with the golden sun illuminating all the fly-away strands behind him… 

“You okay?”

“Uh. Yes. Yes, I’m fine!” he yelped. “Want to… go inside?”

“Yeah,” Link said, finally lifting himself up off the ground.

Pit watched him from the corner of his eye as the two of them entered the temple. Link’s eyes went wide once more as he gazed around at the impressive showing of pillars and arches, stretching all the way up to the tops of the skies, surrounded by intricately-carved railings blocking off the many levels of the temple. Though the place had become a bit dilapidated over the years-- a lack of maintenance and usage, really-- Pit had to admit that it was still an incredible structure.

Link ran out to one of the aforementioned railings, leaning over it to stare down into the main atrium many floors below. “Wow. What do you use all this space for?”

Pit shuffled over to join him. “Nothing, actually.”

“Oh.”

“I guess it did get a lot of use back in the day… the gods used to do a lot more than they do now, so people would pass in and out… and Lady Palutena’s army used to all have their quarters here, but they kind of don’t exist anymore. Now it’s just me and her, and we don’t even live here half the time,” Pit responded, elbows on the railing, resting his head in his hands. All that had happened quite some time ago. He was just a little kid during the height of Skyworld’s prominence. This empty space was just kind of how he always imagined Skyworld to be.

“That sounds really nice, though,” Link said, spreadings his arms out in a sweeping gesture, and prancing a bit down the hall. “All this space to yourself. Nothing in here but… walls and windows.”

“Gets kind of empty after a while.”

“It’s not super empty… Like, there’s not much furniture, but at least there’s stuff like, uh, planters,” he suggested, skipping over to feel the wall. “And pedestals. And wacky architecture.”

“Oh, wait until you see my room,” Pit chuckled, walking off in the direction of his door. “Then you’ll see what my frame of reference for ‘empty’ is.”

“Better not be anything like your room back home.”

“Yeah, yeah, just follow me.”

Pit didn’t really have a door to his room-- there were no doors in the temple to begin with-- so instead, he brushed aside a white canvas curtain hanging above the door frame, beckoning Link inside.

“Uh…” was all Link said as he blinked, attempting to take everything in.

Pit’s small room was absolutely _choked_ with stuff. Stuff on the floor, stuff cluttering his shelves, stuff hanging from the ceiling, on the window sill, even a bit strewn across his small bed, backed right up against the giant hole in the wall that constituted his view out into the sky. And what could he say? You come into possession of a lot of things if you’ve been around for over two thousand years. He never quite liked to throw things away. Everything he owned had a bit of sentimental value to him.

Link poked a decaying black vase sitting on a table by the door, right next to a styrofoam cup that had probably been there for the last thirty years.

“Pretty neat, right?” Pit said, sauntering across the room to go plop down onto the nest of pillows and blankets on his bed.

“...How old is this stuff?” Link asked.

“Well. I’ve got this blanket I bought, like, a month ago, and I’ve got rocks from… I don’t even know. How old are most rocks?” At that, Link quickly put the amethyst geode he’d picked up off of a shelf down as subtly as possible, as if he felt guilty for laying a finger on any of the old stuff. “But, hey, everyone’s got rocks. Some of this stuff’s from a couple millennia ago. Like this sandal here,” he said, picking up a shoe that had been sitting on the window sill for… way too long. It didn’t even smell bad anymore. Its straps just looked fragile and crumbly. “Like, why do I even still have this?” he snorted.

“It’s like a museum in here.”

“I guess it kind of is.” An extremely disorganized museum, to be sure. 

Pit watched as Link flitted about the room, picking up and examining random things, completely enthralled by the myriad of ancient objects in the room. And less ancient ones, too. Can’t forget about all the 80’s memorabilia he’d accidentally collected. He found himself grinning slightly while observing Link’s constant wonder-filled expression-- who knew he’d be this interested in what was basically junk?

At some point, Link found a dusty old record player laying in a forgotten corner on the floor. “Woah! Where’d you get this from?” he exclaimed, stepping over piles of balled-up old clothes and dead flower petals to gently pick it up.

“Oh… I think some guy was trying to hit on Lady Palutena, and he gifted her that… she didn’t really want it, so she gave it to me.” 

Link set it down next to Pit on the bed. “Does it still work?”

“I have no idea how they’re supposed to work in the first place.”

“Do you have any records?”

“Maybe? If you look, you might find one.”

It would be a daunting task; a record could be buried anywhere underneath the geologic layers of junk lying about the room. Link went right to poking his fingers around shelves to see if he could spot one. 

The two of them fell into silence-- the only noise in the room was the soft clinking of items getting moved around. After a full day of… stuff, Pit appreciated the quiet moment. 

Link started humming some tune to himself. He wasn’t even particularly good at it, but Pit still rested his head in his hands, legs crossed on his bed, letting himself listen to it.

It was Clair de Lune, he realized.

Aw. Link had actually listened to it. 

“So… what’s life in Skyworld like?” Link finally asked, shoving a large wooden owl out of the way, and snapping Pit out of his nothing space.

“Uh. I guess it’s just me and Palutena. She does all her god-business from here, and I’m her servant, so if she ever needs anything done, I’m the guy who does it, whether it’s killing monsters or making coffee,” he joked. 

“Killing monsters?”

“Why do you think Earth’s not always getting bombarded by abominations from space?” He pointed to himself, smugly, leaning down on one elbow. “This guy.”

Link just snorted.

“W-what?”

“You’re just funny, is all,” he grinned, turning back to searching through shelves. 

“Oh… thanks?”

Link just winked before turning back to the mountains of stuff. After a few moments, he asked, “So… Teyna-- er, Palutena’s your mom, right?”

Uh. Pit certainly would not go _that_ far. Sure, she had always looked after him, but he wasn’t sure she even thought about him in that way. He was her assistant, nothing more, and it felt a bit presumptuous to assume otherwise. “N-nah. That was all just a cover,” he began, laughing awkwardly. “I’m really just her servant. Definitely her favorite one… only one… but she’s definitely not my _mom_.”

“Hm,” Link hummed.

“But she’s really great, actually… yeah, sometimes, she likes to poke fun at me, but everyone does that. And she’s always looking out for me, you know? Without her, I’d probably have done something dumb and gotten myself killed,” he thought out loud, smiling fondly. “Everything changes in the world, but she’s always been there.” 

Many people liked to call him a fool for being so naively faithful to her, especially after all this time. Pit was fully aware of their claims-- but it _wasn’t_ a blind faith. They were the dynamic duo, always kicking around in Skyworld together. He loved his home. She didn’t control him. He could leave at any point if he wanted to, just like… Pittoo.

Well, no. It was best not to leave. Skyworld is where he wanted to be, and was meant to be. DP was a weird, messed-up clone. Of course he could do whatever he wanted. He wasn’t _made_ to be here.

“Found one!” Link called, holding out a dirty plastic sleeve with a record inside of it.

Thank the gods there was someone here to jolt him out of his thoughts.

“Ooh. What’s the song?”

“It just says ‘To Miss Teyna’ on the record.”

“It’ll be a surprise, then!”

Pit had no idea what to do; Link seemed to have some idea of how the player worked, so Pit just let him mess around with it until it started playing music. Link jerked his hands away as it started playing scratchy fuzz, and then:

_Bum bum bum bum bum bum bum bum bum bum bum bum bum_

_Bum bum bum bum bum bum bum bum bum bum bum bum bum_

_Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream,_

_Make him the cutest that I’ve ever seen._

Link’s jaw dropped comically. “Oh my god. It’s Mr. Sandman.”

“...You know this song?”

_Give him two lips, like roses and clover_

_And tell him that his lonesome nights are over._

“Are you kidding? Everyone knows this song.”

“Not me, apparently.”

_Sandman, I’m so alo-- lo-- lo-- lo-- lo-- lone,_

_Don’t have nobody-- dy-- dy-- dy-- dy-- dy-- dy-- dy-- dy-- dy-- dy--_

Pit blinked at the record. “Is the song supposed to sound like that?”

_dy-- dy-- dy-- dy-- dy-- dy--_

“Aw. Guess the record’s busted,” Link announced, removing the needle. “Oh well.”

“Yeah, it’s really hit-or-miss whether or not anything actually works in here,” Pit admitted. “But at least the player itself is all good?”

Link shrugged in response, placing it back down in the dusty corner. He then walked over to the bed and sat down next to Pit, staring out the giant window sill. It was a Skyworld sunset right outside-- always a soft rainbow of a sky, paint-like clouds illuminated on the edges by the lowering sun. Pit had seen a million of them, but they never got old.

He had slumped over the window sill, head resting in his crossed arms, when Link suddenly blurted, “Can I touch your wings?” 

Pit felt a sudden rush of _something_ pass through his body. “...What?”

“I-- uh. Just curious… I’ve always wanted to ask DP, but I think he wouldn’t like that very much. Since he’s not really touchy-feely.” Link mumbled, looking off to the side in embarrassment.

“S-sure! If you want to.”

Ever so tentatively, Link reached a hand out, hesitating a moment before running his fingers down the very bottom of Pit’s wings, on the tips of his primaries. “Can you feel that?”

“No, you dummy. I can’t actually _feel_ my feathers.”

“Really?”

“Of course not. It’s like… hair. Or something like that. Nobody can feel their hair.”

Link lightly placed his hand on the top of Pit’s wing instead. “How about now?”

“Well, yeah. I’ve got bones and stuff there.”

He started running his hand through that spot on Pit’s wing, still tentatively.

Okay. That felt… really nice. Pit closed his eyes with a sigh, falling into calmness at the presence of Link’s touch.

Link was so calm all the time. Pit wasn’t quite sure how he managed it. But whatever the source, it was wonderful-- Link always seemed to be there, able to help Pit chill out, kick about, and stop spinning about uncontrollably in his head. Now was certainly one of those moments. He was so tired of shoving back thoughts of Palutena and Pittoo and loyalties and lies into the darkest recesses of his mind. 

At some point, Link drew his hand back, placing it back in his lap with a hint of sheepishness.

“...Aw, no. You don’t have to stop,” Pit complained.

And then Link went right back to rubbing. They met eyes, both laughing softly for some inexplicable reason. 

“It’s like…”

“Like what?”

Link crossed his eyes in thought. “Like… flower petals, or something?”

Pit snorted. Flower petals? People had compared his wings to many things, but never _that_. “If you say so?”

When Link smiled, it went right up to his eyes. It was adorable.

Darn it. 

He couldn’t keep pretending that he wasn’t feeling _something_ for Link. Everything from his golden hair, to his smiling eyes, to his ever-present state of peace-- all of it filled Pit with a kind of warm, enveloping comfort that was becoming harder and harder to find these days.

If he was more in his right mind, he may have started to freak out. Link was just a wisp of smoke to him, right? He’d be gone just as fast as he’d come into Pit’s life, just like every other person he’d fallen in love with, and Pit would be left reeling with that reality for years to come. And how did Link himself even feel about him-- the awkward, blathering, cheerful fool that he was? It was a miracle and a half Link even wanted to be his friend in the first place.

But his mind couldn’t be bothered to consider those thoughts. The only thing that mattered was warm comfort, and a moment in the sky to be savored.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this just in: aromantic fanfic author has no idea how to write romantic relationships
> 
> also, I've returned from my spontaneous disappearance, which I imagine you could guess by the fact that you're reading this chapter-- just was taking a break over new year's (because we all need a break to catch our collective breath after Hell Year).


	29. XXVII. Square One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> angel meets angel. a funny coincidence?
> 
> \----

November 22nd, 2019. Two hundred and twenty-two days out.

**Emergency Alert**

For the greater area: unidentified object visible in the sky over the intersection between Lincoln Street and Lumbar Avenue. Seek shelter if in the area.

Seriously? In the  _ afternoon? _ Couldn’t Galeem and Dharkon stand to send their hands at a more convenient time of day?

Ugh. Thank God for the county’s new emergency alert system. Otherwise, they’d have to wait until the hands caught up to  _ them  _ instead of the other way around.

Hand attacks were a bit of a common occurrence at this point, so the students of Ninten Academy merely looked around the room at each other in slight concern before returning to their work. Not DP, though-- this was his business. He mumbled an excuse about using the bathroom, quickly dashed out of class, and set off for wherever the hand was.

**ratchorus** : nobody leave.

**ratchorus** : it’s probably just one hand. i’ll take care of it.

**ratchorus** : i don’t want you people failing your classes just because you want to punch a hand super badly.

**inkl1ing** : 8(

**legitNess** : yeah man im super bord

**ratchorus** : sucks for you.

DP probably broke a few speed limit laws on his way over, but that was alright. As he liked to say, the law was merely a suggestion. Especially in a crisis.

Looks like the Crazy Hand had floated out of the city and more towards the suburban road leading into it. He drove his car into the grass on the side of the road, yanked the key out of the ignition, thrusted out the door, and summoned his wings and staff. The hand hadn’t noticed him yet.  _ Perfect. _ He could probably get a few clean shots in without having to engage it in the air--

“HYAAAAH!”

A flash of red and gold suddenly slammed into the side of the Crazy Hand. It was violently launched off into a patch of trees.

That was… he’d recognize that stupid arm anywhere.

“Pit!” DP groaned, yelling up to the sky. “ _ What _ are you doing here?”

“What? I can’t hear you!”

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?”

The Crazy Hand fired off a few lasers. Pit quickly deflected with his orbitars, materializing them out of thin air. “Well,” he grunted, “I’m fighting this hand! What’s it look like to you?” A few more shots were fired, and a few more deflected-- one of them landed on the road, shattering the asphalt. Pit struck back with a couple of his own shots from his Upperdash Arm.

Fighting the hand? Wasn’t he technically on the same side as it was? “Yeah, but  _ why? _ ”

“Because it’s attacking this town! Someone’s gotta stop it!”

“That’s  _ my  _ job!”

Another blast to the center of the hand. “You should’ve gotten here first!”

It retaliated, rapidly spinning towards Pit, who simply flew out of the way before exchanging Upperdash Arm for his usual bow. The hand, which had confused itself after ramming into another tree, didn’t stand a chance; a few impeccably precise shots, and it collapsed onto the ground, poofing away.

Damn. That was… brutally quick.

DP had really gone soft, hadn’t he?

Pit floated back down to the ground. “Sorry about that,” he apologized. “I… augh, I’m dumb. I probably should have told you I was here… now you’re missing class!” DP stared at him with his usual disinterested gaze, and Pit diverted his eyes to the ground.

DP just shrugged. “It’s fine.”

“Ah.”

Cue the awkward pause.

“Well,” Pit coughed, pointing in a random direction, “I’m gonna go, in that case…”

He spread his wings to fly away, but DP stopped him. “Hey. Wait.”

“Y-yes?”

It was, after all, the first time they’d been alone together since The Incident earlier that month. Pit had been avoiding him like the plague-- as if DP would let this opportunity to get answers slip by. “What are you doing here?” he vaguely asked.

Pit looked visibly uncomfortable. “What do you mean…?”

“First of all, why are you out here killing the hands? And not because you’re ‘protecting people’ or whatever, that’s what we’re all doing-- but it’s not technically  _ your job _ to do that.”

“Isn’t that what the, uh, NFC is supposed to do, though?”

“Yeah, but you’re not part of it.”

“O-oh.”

Or, at least, DP assumed he wasn’t. Pit’s little stalling tactic had fallen through, and so had their pact. But his words caused Pit to nervously direct his gaze back down at the ground again, so… surely, there was something else happening here.

“You know what? I actually don’t care,” DP sighed, realizing he probably wasn’t going to get a real answer out of the other angel anytime soon. “You can go. I’m leaving. Bye.” He waved over his shoulder, turning back to his car, but then Pit groaned.

“Drat! My flight time’s run out.” He flexed his wings, but no luck; he just begrudgingly vanished them instead.

DP wanted to say, ‘that sucks,’ and leave, but if they were both going to the same place, then he might as well offer a ride. 

Curse his common decency.

“You’re going back to school, right?”

“Well, yeah… my stuff’s still there.”

“I’ll take you back.”

Pit’s eyes widened-- whether it was from fear, or excitement, DP couldn’t tell. “Really?”

“It’d be kinda douchey to make you walk all the way there.”

“I mean, if you’re okay with it…”

“I literally asked you. It’s fine.”

That was the end of that. Pit scuttled off to the passenger side of the car.

“Are you going to get in?”

“Y-yeah!”

There was a bunch of junk on the passenger’s seat that DP chucked into the back. Pit sat down, trying to make himself as small and non-intrusive as possible. Just forget about him, DP told himself. Forget that he’s here, you’re driving alone. It was… a difficult endeavor. Normally, he’d play some music, but he wasn’t quite sure if Pit would be okay with that, so the car was silent. 

Pit was fidgeting with the bracelets on his arm. It was impossible not to focus on the incessant sound of their clinking.

Was the ride to the school always this long?

It should not be this quiet, DP decided. Why wasn’t Pit blabbering his head off? That would make this a little more bearable.

Or maybe it wouldn’t be. Frankly, confronting Pit about anything of substance was far off the list of things DP wanted to do. Ever. His mere presence dredged up all of DP’s old problems-- though, maybe, there wasn’t so much cause for concern, if what his friends said was true-- but it was still ratchetingly stressful.

But why? Pit was harmless.

Maybe it was about  _ who  _ was behind Pit. He was sort of a… representation of how futile resistance was, or something equally pretentious as that.

DP glanced over to Pit for the slightest moment. He’d been staring at him while he was driving (why was he doing that?) and they met eyes. There was just unease in the blue, and nothing more. Perfect-- that made two of them.

Or… maybe his unease was coming from the fact that  _ he  _ was making Pit uncomfortable.

That had never happened before now.

But since when did he care? He had no reason to pay any mind to the feelings of some person he wanted nothing to do with. 

That’s when Pit finally decided to speak up. “So, I heard… you guys are going to try to talk to Galeem and Dharkon, right?”

“Where did you hear that?”

“From Link.”

“I guess you guys hang out?”

Pit turned to look out the window. “A lot, actually. He’s fun.”

“Why do you care about our plan?” DP pressed, not interested in the details of their friendship.

“I thought it sounded… reasonable? You’d probably fail, but I guess it’s better than nothing.”

_ Reasonable _ .

“Okay, Pit,” DP blurted out, accidentally jerking the car a bit, “I’m not sure what kind of bullshit you’re trying to pull here, but if you’re trying to actually  _ help  _ the NFC with our plan, I’d be more than willing to let you do that. Assuming that’s what you mean?”

“Well, Link and I have kind of been talking about stuff, and he says you guys have a chance to succeed, which is great... If we  _ could  _ talk Galeem out of his plan, then… I’d be all for that.”

“And what has Palutena said about all this?”

“Well, that’s the thing,” Pit laughed, back to fidgeting with the bracelets. “She hasn’t said anything.”

Oh. 

“I want to help, but… I don’t think she’d want me to do that.”

What an idiot! It was the same old problem as always. “So,” DP huffed, “What are you going to do about that? Because I don’t know what to tell you--”

“I know, you don’t really have to answer that--”

“It’s simple!” he exclaimed, all his frustration pouring out in an uncontrollable mess. “Just do what you want! Maybe that’s just being her lapdog, I don’t know, I don’t care.” It wasn’t his problem. Why was it bugging him? “You and Palutena aren’t going to do some sneaky shit, I mean, if Galeem and Dharkon wanted me dead, I’d be a corpse by now; and if you’ve been trying to convert Link to your side, you’ve fucked that up, too. If you actually,  _ legitimately _ , want to join my team, I’m not going to stop you.”

Pit was still looking out the window. “You don’t actually  _ have  _ to let me help... it’s up to you.”

“It’s literally not! I am letting  _ you  _ do what  _ you  _ want, for once in your life, so I don’t care. Just stop wringing me around and  _ pick  _ something!” He could see Pit going a bit pale out of the corner of his eye. He almost regretted lashing out like that, but… that’s how he had always been around Pit. He could deal with it.

“I know you don’t care,” Pit mumbled. “It’s not like you ever did.”

They both went silent. The sound of the car’s whirring motor and Pit’s irregular breathing were bouncing around in his head, like obnoxious white noise, and he felt the pangs of an inexplicable guilt in his stomach. What was he going to do about it, though? Apologize? There was nothing to apologize for, except for choosing to live his own life. If Pit wanted to follow him off of Skyworld all those years ago, it’s  _ his  _ fault he never did it.

_ You’re being an asshole. _

Just like he’d always been. Why did it still have to be this way?

Things were unintentionally, yet viscerally, bitter. DP did not like that one bit. But he also didn’t care to mash their conflict into the ground any further. If you don’t like something… then fix it.

“What kind of music do you like listening to?”

Pit perked up, eager to talk about anything else. “Nothing in particular, really.”

“‘Kay then. I’ll just hit shuffle,” DP shrugged, recklessly averting his eyes from the road to open his phone. Hopefully it wouldn’t be something stupid. Or explicit. Or both.

It was some vaporwave song he had forgotten the name of. 

“Woah,” Pit exhaled, sliding down in his seat. “This is weird.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s like… floating around in space, but you’ve been detached from your spaceship or something, and you’re sort of spinning around and looking at the stars, and now you’re all alone forever.”

“Sounds like the plot of a space movie from the 60s.”

“Exactly like that!”

DP had never actually seen any space movies from the 60s. Neither had Pit, for that matter. But the song was better to listen to than silence, at least, so they sat, listening to the droning beat of the music.

“Hey, Pittoo?”

“Yeah?”

“I...uh… geez,” Pit sputtered, nervously wringing his hands. “I’m sorry. About everything. I’ve completely invaded your life, and I know you don’t want me here, but I keep coming back anyways! I’m so, so sorry--“

DP suddenly put a hand on his shoulder, instantly shutting him up. “Okay, okay, look, Pit, it’s… circumstances,” he began, struggling to think of what to say. “You’re here. I’m here. There’s not much we can do about that. And I don’t really  _ care  _ that you’re here, so really, I just want you to… you know, do what you want.”

“I can leave, always--“

“Yeah, but I know you’re not going to do that.” The school appeared on the side of the street, and DP pulled into the parking lot off to the side. “Circumstances are circumstances, Pit. And I’ve gotten pretty good at dealing with them.”

“That’s good for you.”

“I guess what I’m trying to say-- it’s always been weird between us.”

“Clearly.”

“So let’s just start over. Square one.”

Pit blinked. “...What do you mean?”

It was a bit of a weird idea. But some new sort of determination had strangely settled into his mind. Whatever was happening between the two of them… that was a literal millennium of resentment he didn’t feel like ever unpacking. So why even bother to try?

DP took a silent moment to park the car, forcefully turning off the engine before sticking out his hand. “Hi. My name’s DP… er… better name pending. But you can just call me Pittoo,” he winked. 

Aha, Pit must have thought, because a small smile of realization spread across his face like a lightbulb turning on. Tentatively, he placed his own calloused hand in DP’s, shaking it. “I’m Pit… I’m from out of town.”

“How far out of town?”

“36,000 feet up out of town.”

“Ah. So you’re an angel, too, I guess.”

“Yup. What brings you down here?”

“I’m an Earthling now. Trying to get by like a normal human person.”

“An angel? Trying to be normal? I’m surprised you’d even bother with that! How’s that going?”

“Pretty terribly. It’s hard to be normal when you keep getting attacked by magic floating hands every other day,” DP snorted. “But I try my best.”

Pit vigorously nodded in agreement. “Tell me about it! Those guys just don’t know when to quit. Keep interrupting me in the middle of school and everything. How am I supposed to learn about chemical reactions when I have to go save the world?”

“It’s a good thing school doesn’t matter for shit, then.”

“Hey!” Pit protested, crossing his arms. “I actually  _ want  _ to graduate and go to college.”

“Oh, really?”

“Pfft. Not really. I don’t even know what they’re talking about half the time.”

“Me neither,” DP laughed. “I’m barely passing my classes.”

“Maybe we just weren’t meant to be intellectuals, then.”

“Not me, that’s for sure. I’m an artist,” he dramatically scoffed. “We don’t do math and all that useless stuff.”

“Wait, Pittoo, you’re an  _ artist? _ ”

Oh, that’s right, he remembered, flushing the slightest bit in embarrassment. Not everybody knew that about him. “Well, yeah. What else do you think I’ve been doing for all these years?”

Pit looked at him with expectant eyes. “Can I…”

“See some stuff? What, do you think I’m going to just find some art in this car?” he cringed.

“I dunno, maybe all these papers back here are all doodles or something…” Pit picked one of them up, examining it with furrowed brows. “Or… not. This is just writing?”

DP snatched it from his hands. “For my classes. That’s all my school junk down there.”

“Oh.”

“Since when could you read, anyways?”

Pit feigned offense. “Since a while ago, actually!”

“Congrats on achieving basic literacy.”

“Hey! Lady Palutena says I’m at  _ least  _ at a high-school reading level.”

“Whatever you say.”

“But seriously, can I see some art? Surely you’ve got pictures on your phone somewhere?”

“Hm,” DP thought. “Maybe later. Once you’ve proven you’re a cool guy, since we, uh, _ just met _ and everything… but… that’s enough about me,” he deflected, not entirely willing to let Pit see any of his art yet. “You want to go to college, you say? What are you going to do there?”

“I… don’t know,” said Pit, looking up to the ceiling. “I think and I think, but I can’t really decide.”

“You’ve got all the time in the world to figure that crap out,” DP mused. “Took  _ me  _ a long time.”

“Really?”

He’d been put off on a tangent at this point, but that same urge of determination was prompting him to say at least some words of comfort. “It’s hard for everyone, right? It sucks being a teenager,” he sighed. “You’re supposed to want something, and you don’t even know what that is, because you’ve kind of been a sheltered kid all your life, and on top of that, you’re still figuring out who and what you are in the first place. It’s just pressure for days.”

“I guess that’s one way of looking at it.” 

“Even  _ I’m  _ still figuring it all out, I think,” DP admitted. “You’d think I would have my shit together after all this time, but… nah.” It had taken him a whole millennium to just find some friends and decide to be an artist. Surely, Pit, too, felt like him and everyone else-- completely lost in the throes of trying to figure it all out. He’d been a servant up in Skyworld his whole life, of  _ course  _ he didn’t know what he wanted. “But, hey. That’s my useless philosophical two cents. You think whatever you want to think.”

“Well,” Pit laughed softly, “I’m glad you’ve seemed to figure everything out for yourself… it’s probably all I could have wanted for you, at this point.”

“Hey. We don’t know each other, remember?” DP objected, narrowing his eyes.

“Riiiight.”

Silence.

“But I mean what I said, Pittoo.”

DP just looked off to the side. “Heh...Thanks.”

It was around this point that kids started flooding out of the doors of the school. DP shot a quick glance to the clock on the dashboard-- three already? They must have been out for a while.

Pit started to get out of the car, but DP stopped him. “Since you’re here… do you need a ride home? Just so you don’t have to pay for the bus.”

“Nope!” he smiled. “I’m going to Link’s house. We’re making homemade pizza!”

“Then I guess… I’ll see you around?”

“I guess so.”

They stared at each other for another moment. This time, however, it wasn’t painful. It was still unfamiliar, but DP took comfort in the fact that they could, at least for the moment, put their history aside and start over.

He watched Pit saunter away. Link was barely visible, standing off at the edge of the parking lot. The two of them rode off on that stupid Master Cycle (DP would never stop cringing at Link’s name for it. Seriously, why name your vehicle?), just like any pair of regular old friends would. It was a wonder how Pit had become so attached to someone as laid-back as Link was, but then again, maybe DP just didn’t know Pit all that well.

There was a sort of vindication in knowing that, despite the fact that they were technically counterparts, they hardly knew anything about each other. They sort of knew each other’s problems and weaknesses, but outside of that? Basically  _ nothing. _

Ha. So his last thousand years weren’t all for nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> people who write Pit and Dark Pit as siblings? they have all of my respect.
> 
> (I causally say as I proceed to not do that.)


	30. XXVIII. Two Angels And Their Mutual Friend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not even Mash Sisters is safe from the greedy, corporate hands of my alternate-universe Hollywood.
> 
> \----

November 26th, 2019. Two hundred and eighteen days out.

It was the final NFC meeting before Thanksgiving Break, which meant DP was actually  _ trying  _ for once when it came to training. And by trying, that meant forcing everyone to run aimless laps around the block over and over again until their faces went blue.

Endurance training, he said.

Hell, Link thought.

But the biggest surprise was that  _ Pit was there, _ despite whatever was going on between him and DP.

Link never asked why, though, as much as his curiosity about their shared past kept his mind spinning in passing moments. It wasn’t his place to be nosy. Maybe there was some sort of new deal between the two of them, or… maybe they had made up? 

The two of them kept shooting intense glances at each other when they thought the other wasn’t looking, and even Link was perceptive enough to deduce that things were still tense.

DP had been avoiding Pit for an entire millennium-- that’s not something that gets resolved after a couple of days. Although... it wasn’t really  _ avoiding, _ so much as not being around each other, was it? Maybe that made a difference?

Whatever the situation, Link had other things to think about. Like… Thanksgiving break. How was it here already?

He and his father travelled out to the rural nowheres of Nebraska for the holiday, where his grandparents lived. It was not a particularly thrilling visit-- not like it ever was, though. Link spent most of his time wandering around, all alone, in the giant field outside his grandparents’ house while the rest of his family sat around and talked all day and night. The NFC group chat was buzzing all weekend, but he couldn’t drum up the effort to actually respond to any of their texts.

When he got off the plane on the last Sunday of break, he found himself feeling kind of hollow. 

It also happened to be the night before his eighteenth birthday, so that probably didn’t help, either. He was always prone to falling into existential spirals during this time of year. And what had he done during the last weekend of his childhood? Become acutely reminded of how… disconnected he felt from everything in his life.

He’d just pretend it was a normal day. Maybe then he’d think about mind-numbing schoolwork instead of loneliness or some other depressing thing. Maybe Zelda would mention his birthday, as she always did. Maybe not.

He drifted in and out of sleep all through the night… until the sound of his phone ringing in the morning roused him awake. Groggily, he picked it up, blinking several times to make out the name of the caller.

It was Pit. He answered it without thinking.

“Heya.”

“...Hi?”

“Happy Birthday!”

He jolted out of bed. “T-thanks? But...how did you know?”

“You told me.”

“I did?”

“You remember that one night where you called me at, like two in the morning, and I was talking to you about flat-earth and constellations and star signs and stuff? You told me then, and I… may or may not have written it down.”

“Oh.” That night. Not exactly one of Link’s finest moments.

“Actually, I lied to you then. I said I was a Capricorn, but I’m actually a Sagittarius! Which is what you are, if you forgot, which is possible, since it seems like you don’t ever remember having this conversation… We can be, uh, Sagittarius buddies or something!”

Link had no idea what any of that meant.

This was the first conversation he was having as a legal adult, he passively thought.

He found himself smiling, just slightly. There was something nice about that fact.

What wasn’t pleasant, on the other hand, was Zelda’s grand annunciation of angry disappointment at the NFC meeting later that day.

“Link, you didn’t TELL anyone it was your birthday?”

Oh, come on. And right after they’d all finished up with their Five Miles of Hell Around the Block.

He shrank a little bit under her scrutiny. “No? It’s, uh, kind of a weird thing to randomly bring up…”

She dramatically swept an arm around the warehouse. “NONE of you people knew?”

They all hesitantly shook their heads, or shrugged, or did some other half-hearted indication that no, they really were all clueless.

“A-actually, I did,” Pit started, but then trailed off when everyone’s eyes turned to him.

“And  _ you  _ didn’t say anything, either?”

“No…”

Zelda huffed. “Well. This isn’t going to do. I’m going to fix this.”

Link suddenly felt viscerally afraid of what that could possibly mean. Knowing Zelda, it could be  _ anything _ .

Oh, who was he kidding. It was probably a birthday party. She’d been wanting to throw one for him ever since they’d met in freshman year, and he’d refused every time. But now that they had mutual friends… it was going to be impossible to avoid.

That’s fine, he thought. He could deal with being  _ paid attention to _ for once in his life.

And so he forgot about the whole affair.

(Which was definitely good for Zelda, who rallied the rest of the NFC to help her plan a surprise party. It wouldn’t be much of a surprise if Link guessed what was happening beforehand.)

\----

December 4th, 2019. Two hundred and ten days out.

Link was waiting out by the school parking lot when Pit approached him.

“Heya,” he greeted. “Do you want to go walk around in the park?”

Aw, come on, he was busy this afternoon. “Oh,” Link started, looking down at his feet. “I… can’t, actually.”

Pit just nodded. “That’s fine! Are you doing something else?”

Well, it was a matter of hanging out with Pit’s ex-clone… counterpart… other angel… person. DP! There was animosity between the two of them, right? If hearing  _ that  _ was going to make Pit irritated, then Link would rather him not know at all.

So he decided to lie. “I have to--”

“Okay, I’m here. We can go.”

DP walked up with his phone in his face, obviously not able to see Pit through the bangs falling over his eyes.

And then he looked up.

And then he  _ did  _ notice.

They were looking at each other, just like they were during the NFC meetings. Link felt a sudden, guilty urge to do something about this predicament he’d accidentally caused before it got out of hand.

“Oh,” DP nonchalantly said. “Hi, Pit.”

“Hi, Piii… DP,” Pit sputtered.

And they kept looking at each other-- Link almost wanted to slink off and leave them be.

“So,” Pit coughed. “Where did you say you were going, Link?”

Link, face frozen in a slight wince, couldn’t bring himself to say anything.

“We’re going to the movies,” DP filled in.

“Which one?”

“The live-action Mash Sisters film.”

Pit’s face blanched. “Oh, no, is that the one with the terrifying CG Keeby in the trailer?”

“Yeah,” DP snickered. “We’re watching it ironically. Do you want to come?”

“Sure, if you don’t mind…”

“It’s cool. Do whatever you want, Pit.”

Link almost shouted a declaration of total confusion, but managed to keep a straight face. The tension? Whatever happened to that?

Pit turned to Link, wringing his hands in a half-way pleading gesture. “Do you mind?”

“N-no…”

“Then I guess I’ll come?”

“Great,” DP shrugged. “We’re going in my car. You’ll just have to clear all the junk out of my backseat first.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s a dumpster down there.”

DP scoffed. 

Link blinked in surprise for what felt like the hundredth time. But if they were fine with it, to the point of bantering… then Link supposed he was fine with it, too.

Didn’t stop him from feeling on edge during the ride over to the mall. Things were almost completely silent, save for DP’s alt-rock playlist playing out of his phone, and the sound of Pit’s foot constantly tapping against the floor in the backseat. Should he… say something to make it less weird? He was friends with both of them. There was probably some way to do it.

But Link was never a conversationalist, so he let the silence persist.

Paying for the tickets once they got inside was also an issue. Nobody else was standing in line, so the three of them stood around between the rope barriers, debating amongst themselves.

“I’ll pay,” DP immediately insisted.

“N-no, I can do it,” Pit objected.

“What? With  _ Palutena’s _ credit card?”

“Yes! I’ve got the money, so… it’s fine!”

“I’m not dirt-poor, you know. I’ll do it. This was my idea.”

“Well, I’m the one who invaded you guys, so I should.”

“It’s not invading if I said it was fine.”

“But you were probably only expecting to pay for two people…”

There was that pang of unease in his stomach again. Normally, Link would have to psych himself up before talking to any kind of cashier, but now, he found himself pushing past Pit and DP up to the counter. “Three tickets for the Mash Sisters movie… the 4:15 showing…” he stammered.

The cashier looked at him as if to say, really? You’re going to watch the critical bombshell cash-grab live-action  _ Mash Sisters  _ on a Wednesday afternoon?

Link almost dissolved under the cashier’s gaze, but managed to pull out the money from his jacket pocket.

Row F, seats 8, 9, and 10… if he sat in the middle of them, then he wouldn’t have to worry about them awkwardly looking at each other during the movie.

“You didn’t have to do that, Link,” Pit protested, a sheepish look on his face.

“It’s okay,” Link shrugged. “I was supposed to pay, anyways.”

Pit shot DP an inquisitive glance.

Getting food was almost the same thing, but DP insisted that he didn’t need a snack, and stood off to the side while the other two poked around the shelves of junk food.

“What do you think the best thing to get is?” Pit asked, holding up a few boxes of food. “I guess there’s chocolate, but also those weird sour things… or what about popcorn! We can’t  _ not  _ get popcorn!”

Link just wanted to ask him what the heck was up now that they were alone.

But one, Pit was too invested in finding a snack to give a cohesive answer, and two, DP was staring at them while leaning against a pillar in the distance.

“...Popcorn is good,” Link conceded with a sigh.

“I’ll get a big bucket! Pittoo  _ says  _ he doesn’t want anything, but I bet he does.”

Pittoo. Pit Two. Oh.

Link could imagine DP not being too pleased with being called something like that.

And then it was time for the movie. Link managed to snag the middle seat, which also meant that he had to be the one to hold the giant bucket of popcorn in his lap.

When the two angels reached for the popcorn at the same time, their fingers accidentally brushed. Both immediately yanked their hands back to their lap.

Link was suddenly not hungry anymore.

Just focus on the atrocity that is live-action Mash Sisters.

There was nobody else in the theater-- save for one person in the front and a young family in the back-- which was good, because Pit literally screamed within the first minute of the movie. He latched onto Link’s shoulder, and whispered into his ear, “Are you sure this isn’t a horror film?”

Oh. Pit’s face was just inches from his own, and he could feel himself going red-- thank God it was too dark in here to see anything. “No, it’s just… bad CG,” Link eked out.

“What the fuck,” DP muttered to himself.

And so the film played, with many more shoulder-grabbing and what-the-fuck-ing moments. And lots of hysterical laughter. All simultaneously, Link noted... was that a clone thing, or a coincidence? Or maybe it was because they’d both spent the first years of their lives together? Surely, it wasn’t a clone thing, since they were so different in every other way imaginable.

Ugh! Both of them had made it clear that this stuff didn’t even matter. He needed to stop overthinking.

It felt like forever before the movie finally ended. Link almost drifted off a couple of times, but Pit’s jittery reactions every time a new character appeared on-screen easily put a stop to that.

When the lights went back up in the theater, the three of them sat in incredulous silence for a moment. 

“So… what now?” Pit blurted out.

“Mind bleach,” DP grunted. “I never want to think about this movie again.”

“Me neither.”

We could always go home, Link thought to himself.

“Are you guys hungry? I didn’t drive you people all the way out to the mall to just leave in two hours.”

Pit jumped out of his seat. “Yes! Always!”

And that’s how they ended up in the food court with a few slices of pizza, a couple styrofoam cups of water, and the same awkward silence that had been hanging over the three of them all afternoon. Pit and DP were still staring at each other, and Link was  _ still  _ unable to say anything. He was the one who should have been able to ease the tension! Why couldn’t he bring himself to do that? Just say something funny, or interesting, literally  _ anything at all  _ would feel better than this.

“Link?” Pit piped up, noticing how Link’s face had sort of contorted into a nervous grimace. “Are you… doing okay?” Link tried to nod, but it wasn’t of much help. “Did your pizza go bad, or something? Or was the movie too horrifying? Or did you eat too much popcorn earlier--”

“It’s nothing,” Link mumbled, slumping down in his seat.

Pit stilled himself. “Oh.”

DP, however, swatted him on the shoulder. “No, it’s not.”

“It’s really nothing…”

“You’ve been acting weird all afternoon. It’s definitely not nothing.”

“You’re right,” Link grumbled. “It’s not nothing.” The other two looked to him for some kind of explanation, and he found himself shriveling a bit under their gazes, but somehow, forced himself to speak his mind. “It’s, uh,” he stammered, “Don’t you guys… hate each other, or something?”

Pit and DP shared a long, awkward glance.

_ You idiot, you said the wrong thing-- _

“Pfft,” Pit giggled, in an artess attempt to alleviate the tension. “We don’t, er,  _ hate  _ each other. W-where’d you get that idea from?”

“Like… every other time you’ve been in the same room together…”

“We-- uh-- I mean, I guess things are weird--”

“We didn’t exactly leave on the best terms last time we saw each other,” DP filled in. “Leave it to past us from a millennium ago to not know how to give a proper goodbye.”

“Y-yeah!”

Link furrowed his brows. That didn’t sound particularly reassuring.

“Have you ever met an old friend you thought had forgotten about you?”

“Not really,” Link admitted. He didn’t really have any old friends to speak of.

DP blinked. “Oh. Well, it’s… like that. You’re suddenly reminded of whatever caused you to drift in the first place.”

“Buuut, we decided we’re going to pretend none of that happened!” Pit interjected. “Since we hardly know anything about each other now, it’s just easier to, uh, not worry about stupid stuff we said in the past!”

“Er, not  _ pretend, _ but, you know, put it aside,” DP elaborated, picking at his pizza. “Pit doesn’t care about what I said a zillion years ago, and I don’t care that I’m technically his clone. So what’s the point of making things tense for no reason? We’re on the same team and everything. That just complicates things.”

Link looked down at the table. What on Earth were they alluding to? He wanted to ask, but if they were trying to forget about it… it probably wasn’t appropriate.

“Besides,” DP smirked, “If I hated Pit, why would I invite him along with us?”

“Because it seemed polite…”

“Because you wanted to  _ traumatize  _ me with the terrifying, beady eyes of the CGI Mountain Climbers,” Pit teased. “It’s your secret revenge!”

“I would never,” DP mockingly insisted. “If you’re traumatized, then so am I. And so is poor Link over here. You wanted to see the cursed Mash characters? That’s on you.”

“But you  _ knew  _ I would be too curious to say no!”

“Your mistake.”

Link could tell their banter was code for ‘let’s stop talking about the past.’ Which was fine. Perfect, even. If they  _ said  _ they were okay being around each other, that was all Link needed to hear to alleviate his unease.

“Don’t blame DP for this,” Link butted in. “Seeing the movie was my idea.”

Pit gasped. “Really? I didn’t know you were a sadist, Link!”

“You’d be surprised how many other bad ideas he’s had,” DP attested. “Do you remember that time you went around licking all the trees in the park because you wanted to rank how they tasted? Definitely not forgetting about that one.”

“That’s a thing that I did,” Link admitted, sinking further into his chair. “I was a weird kid in freshman year.”

“And you’re  _ still  _ a weird kid.”

“Really.”

“Hey. Weird people are fun. I’m totally one of them, anyways.”

“He gets it from me,” Pit grinned.

“Wh-- no, I--” DP tried to object, putting his cringing face in his hands. “You make it sound like you’re my  _ dad, _ or something.”

“I guess, technically,” Link added, feeling a little bit devilish when the two of them broke out into horrified expressions. “B-but twins makes more sense!” he added.

DP shrugged, instantly composing himself. “We used to get that a lot.” 

“But we’re definitely not!” Pit yelped. “Because… actually, I’m at least a few hundred years  _ older  _ than him, so I’d have to at least be his older brother if we were going to be related at all. Which we’re not!”

“Right. Because we’re pretending we’ve never met until now.”

“Oh, please, DP, like that’s going to work at this rate,” Pit scoffed, crossing his arms.

DP stopped to ponder for a second. “...Yeah, you’re probably right,” he conceded. “Guess you can be that weird kid I knew back in the day.”

“How old  _ are  _ you guys, anyways?” Link asked.

“Two thousand, two hundred and forty-two? I think?”

“I stopped keeping track,” DP deadpanned. 

Oh. Geez. That’s old.

“But that’s still pretty young in angel years!” Pit reassured. “We age, like, reeeeally slowly.”

“Shut up, Pit. At least  _ you  _ haven’t looked thirteen since the moment you were born.”

“Oh, that’s true,” Pit taunted. “I forgot you came out kicking like the edgy teenager you are.”

DP put a hand over his chest in a salute. “And I always will be.”

How could they pretend not to know each other? The way they chattered between themselves was just like every other set of siblings he’d met in his life: lighthearted, teasing, and definitely natural.

Whatever the reason,  _ this  _ was far better than the wary glances they’d been shooting at each other all day. Link could hardly contain the silly grin spreading across his face. “You know, you guys get along pretty well,” he remarked.

Pit blinked. “You… think so?”

“Sure.”

The two angels exchanged another glance-- but it wasn’t tense this time. It was more in… recognition than anything else. Once Pit’s face broke out into a sappy grin, though, DP had to look away.

“If you say so,” he shrugged, attempting to maintain his usual disinterested expression.

Link just chuckled to himself. “Well, yeah. We’re just some people hanging out. I think that’s pretty normal for people that get along?”

“Though, you’re not exactly talking to the most normal people around, Link,” DP protested. “Right, Pit?”

Pit sighed, leaning his head in his arms. “You know, I have to admit,” he mused, with a comically distant expression in his eyes, “I think this is the  _ most  _ normal I’ve felt in a long time.”

“What? Even more normal than before everyone thought you were a regular human?”

“Well, that was fake!” he continued. “Sure, hanging out with the rest of the NFC is nice, too, but don’t you feel a bit weird around them? This… I mean, we’re just talking, and none of us are  _ pretending  _ anything. And I-- geez, I haven’t done that in so long.” Pit laughed, a bit awkwardly, but then smiled to himself. “I guess what I’m trying to say is… oh, I don’t really know. This is just nice.”

“Yeah,” Link agreed. This was something he’d never really known he’d needed-- hanging out with one of his best friends, and… well, DP wasn’t just an acquaintance anymore, now that Link was finally starting to understand him better. 

DP squinted. “I’m not really sure what the two of you are on about.”

“Come on, Pittoo, admit it! You like us!”

“...Fine. I  _ guess  _ I do,” he huffed.

It was obvious he was trying to prevent a grin from spreading across his face. It was also obvious that Pit was trying to prevent himself from snickering at his stifled expression. Of course, it was futile both ways, and Link couldn’t prevent himself from joining in their timid laughter.

Was it weird to say that he felt like he was  _ helping  _ the two of them in some way?

Probably.

But he counted it a victory in his book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welcome to Bad Conflict Resolution Techniques with Pit and DP
> 
> originally had them watching the awful Cats live-action movie from 2019 in the first draft of this, but considering half the appeal of this fic is in cringe-inducing Nintendo references, I couldn't let the chance to stick one more in slide.
> 
> (oh, god, we've hit 100k words. Big Yikes)


	31. XXIX. 200 Days, and I'm Freaking Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> got a little too busy thinking about ex-bro drama to think about end-of-the-world drama.
> 
> \----

December 12th, 2019. Exactly two hundred days until the end of the world.

Yeesh.

“Care for a star bit?”

“No thanks. Not in the mood for diabetes tonight.”

Kirby shoved a giant handful of the glittering treats into his mouth. “I don’t even think you can get diabetes.”

“Kirby, stop distracting DP.”

“Aaah, sorry!”

Zelda turned back to her computer to finish her point. “So, as I was saying, we need to be very utilitarian in our approach to changing Galeem’s mind. He’s got the power to recreate the world to fit his will, to, uh, some extent, so the beauty of nature as a point of contention certainly gets ruled out--”

DP and Zelda had returned to the Comet Observatory to talk plans with Rosalina, and by this point, their discussion in the library had devolved into Zelda’s endless monologue, reading off of her lengthy, forty-five-page Word document. DP figured he should have been listening, but he couldn’t help but let his mind wander…

Changing Galeem’s mind was going to be like trying to drag a car wreck out of a ditch bare-handed. In other words, anywhere from difficult to downright impossible. DP didn’t know much about what the two supreme gods were like, but from what he’d heard, they were real sticks in the mud when it came to doing anything they didn’t want to.

_ If  _ this particular plan failed, what would they do?

It was a very real possibility. As much as everyone would like to deny it. As much as  _ he’d  _ been denying it recently, thoughts too preoccupied by Pit to mull it over.

Most of the NFC was weak. That night all the Crazy Hands had attacked was proof enough. In the end, he, Kirby, maybe Link, and Rosalina were the only reliable members of the fight club… if Rosalina was even willing to fight, that is. A force of four would hardly be enough to kill a supreme god, let alone both of them.

“--So, clearly, there must be  _ some  _ sort of use left in this iteration of the universe for Galeem and Dharkon. I can’t speak to what their minds are like-- maybe you can, Rosalina-- but I’d assume, like any typical god, they seek worship. Clearly, hardly anyone on Earth has ever heard of these two-- DP, are you paying attention?”

“Yeah,” he lied.

Rosalina then raised a hand, politely interrupting Zelda. “I do see where you’re coming from, but I’d actually suggest approaching this from a chronological basis. It takes a very long time for a new universe to show any signs of solid ground, let alone life or anything nearly as complicated as that. Galeem and Dharkon certainly can wait, but… perhaps there’s some way to convince them that all that patience while the new universe develops isn’t quite worth it yet.”

The waiting. It was always about the waiting. When would they execute their plan, go to the World of Light? When would be the next time an army of Crazy Hands would be sent to kill them all? What would the apocalypse look like, after meticulously counting down the days until it happened? They’d done virtually nothing so far, and a sinking feeling in his gut told him that they might  _ never  _ do anything at all.

Zelda, in uneasy curiosity, watched his nervous brooding the whole ride home from the Observatory. After Kirby dropped them off at the warehouse, she hung back for a moment, holding her finger.

“Drat. I think I just cut my finger on my bag strap,” she remarked. “Do you have a bandage?”

It was a lie.

“I think so,” he grumbled, walking off to go sort through a stash of junk against the wall.

And things went silent. He suddenly felt the urge to shudder.

“So...” Zelda remarked, observing the calendar on the now-cluttered planning wall, “Two hundred days, huh?”

“Well, yeah, as if I’m not painfully aware of that,” DP muttered, tossing several notebooks aside.

“What was that?”

Aha. Here’s… something.

“I  _ know, _ ” he huffed, depositing a battered box of giant band-aids into her hands.

Zelda frowned. “What’s the matter?”

“Nothing.”

“Something’s obviously the matter. You’re not particularly good at hiding it, you know.”

He cringed at himself before taking a breath. Might as well explain the problem if she was going to be a bother about it. “As you know, there’s two hundred days until the end of the world.”

“...Which is exactly what I just said.”

“And what have we done about it? Jack shit.”

“That’s not true,” she protested. “You formed a team. We’re making a plan to go see Galeem and Dharkon in person. We went to meet with a  _ goddess  _ just an hour ago. I’d say that’s something.”

Frustrated, DP started pacing. 

“Seriously, though. Just because we haven’t enacted our plan yet doesn’t mean we’re failing.”

He was hungry. He wandered over to the refrigerator, yanked it open, and peered inside. Nothing much.

“We’ve got plenty of time to pay them a visit. So you should probably stop freaking out.”

DP slammed the refrigerator shut. “Do you really think your little speech is going to change anyone’s minds?” he countered.

“Yes, of course I do! That’s what we’ve all been saying this whole time--”

“Then you don’t know who we’re dealing with. Galeem and Dharkon are literally supreme beings. They aren’t going to listen to some random…  _ human  _ like you.”

Zelda looked off to the side, a scowl crossing her face. DP suddenly felt a rush of regret run through his system. She was trying her hardest. She didn’t deserve to get the butt of his frustration.

“Okay… look,” Zelda started, sighing. “Do you want to go out walking or something? It seems like you could use some fresh air.”

“I guess,” he shrugged. “We can go to the store. I need to buy dinner.”

“Sure.”

As soon as he grabbed his stuff, they were out of there. Good, DP thought. As much as he loved the place, his warehouse was starting to feel more like a prison than anything else.

The two of them walked for a bit in silence, standing as far apart as possible on the sidewalk. He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. She was obviously thinking, breath fogging up in the cold air.

“I think it’s unfair of you to completely push off our plan like that. I’ve spent a lot of time working on it, you know,” Zelda started, nonplussed. 

DP kicked a dead leaf out of the way. “Ugh. I’m… sorry. I’m just frustrated, is all.”

“So why is it you think we’re going to fail?” she asked, turning to him with quizzical eyes. “The argument is perfectly reasoned. Rosalina says we have a chance. Maybe Dharkon won’t listen to us, but Galeem’s a god of order. Surely, he’ll at least hear us out?”

“That’s the thing, though. They don’t need to follow reason if they already control everything,” he countered. “If they don’t want to change their minds, they won’t. Like I said, you’re just a human. You’re like… a dead fly on their cosmic windshield or something.”

The two of them crossed a road, and the street lights of the supermarket parking lot could be seen in the distance. Zelda, grinning at the half-assed metaphor, put a hand to her chin. “Ha. Well, you’re not exactly a dead fly yourself,” she threw out. 

DP crossed his arms. “Yeah. Like being an angel’s any better than being a mortal.”

“What do you mean?”

“Angels are just servants. Servants aren’t gods. We aren’t even immortal. We just live a long time, and all we exist for is to carry out whatever orders our god tells us to. A servant trying to change the minds of Galeem and Dharkon is just ludicrous. That’s, like, stepping _way_ out of line.”

“What about you, and Kirby? You aren’t  _ slaves-- _ ”

“Not all the gods are as nice as Rosalina is,” he shot back. “Kirby’s only with Rosalina because he  _ wants  _ to be. Most of the other servants don’t get that option. They just keep following orders, and one day, they die. Most of them aren’t as lucky as… me.”

Zelda furrowed her brows. “Are you not created with free will?”

“Well, yeah, we are, but if your god’s all you’ve ever known, it’s hard to think you could possibly be anything else.” He thought about Pit, for the briefest of seconds, before pushing him out of his mind. “They fucked up when they made me, so… I just do what I want.”

“Hm.”

“But who cares if they fucked me up? I’m still not technically meant to be listened to,” he finished, sighing. 

He hated how irrelevant he was in their eyes. But it was just a fact.

They finally reached the automatic doors of the grocery store. Walking inside, they were greeted by a blast of warm air, flickering fluorescent lights, and the incessant clattering of shopping carts across linoleum tile. DP’s face contorted into a scowl. It was less than pleasant.

“What are you going to get?” Zelda asked.

“Probably peanut butter or some shit.”

“That’s it?”

“I don’t really need to eat much,” he grumbled. “Also, I’m poor as rocks. Gotta go cheap.”

“...Ah.”

Peanut butter was all the way in the back of the store, because of course it was. If he walked fast, he could be out of here in under five minutes.

“So… what about Link, then?” Zelda asked, eyes inspecting some jars of peanut butter as they sped down the aisle. “Rosalina seems to think Galeem and Dharkon would listen to him, since he’s so important to them and everything.”

“He’s got it worst of all.”

She turned to him in concern. “What do you mean?”

“He only exists so none of us divine guys have to die. That’s, like, significantly worse than being a servant. That’s just being a scapegoat.”

Zelda turned away again. DP couldn’t see that she had paled the tiniest bit.

He grabbed a jar off the shelf. Ah, yes. The crunchy peanut butter. That was the best kind. He paid, shoved the jar in a pocket, and the two of them walked back out into the cold December air. Neither said a word for a while.

“So this sucks,” Zelda eventually blurted out. “We’re going to fail.”

“Exactly.”

“There’s not even a chance?”

“Depends on whether or not you believe in miracles.”

Zelda inhaled deeply, letting her breath out as slow as possible. “Um… I guess… we’ll just have to try, then?” she offered. “Maybe it’s stupid, but I don’t think there’s statistically  _ zero  _ chance we’ll succeed.”

“I guess.”

“If you won’t try, I will. We’ve come too far.”

She looked at him with narrowed eyes-- almost as if to say, don’t back out now, you coward.

“We can go soon, right?” she suggested, trying to feign a determined smile. “My points are finalized. It’ll be easy to make it to the Observatory. We can fly to the World of Light from there. Let’s freak out once we  _ know _ there's a reason to freak out. It’s all… coming together.”

No, it wasn’t. 

But they  _ had  _ to try with what they had, right?

Then why was he so adamant that they were going to fail?

Maybe recognizing that fact would make him get used to it faster. Then he wouldn’t have to waste so much energy worrying about something he  _ knew _ would happen. There was no point in being afraid of reality. 

Afraid. 

That’s what he was. 

“Zelda?”

He stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. So did she, spinning around on her heels to face him. “Yes?”

“I’m scared,” he admitted. 

She looked off to the side. He could see something flitting across her face, but her words betrayed nothing of her thoughts. “...Who wouldn’t be?”

“Are you?”

“Well, of course.” She shifted her weight between her feet. “My life has barely even started, and now I’m probably going to die before I can even get out of high school.”

“Ah.”

“I can’t stand it here. Not that I don’t like you guys… but I’ve been looking forward to  _ something else _ besides dealing with school and my dad and everything and… augh.”

“That’s why you’ve gotten into this NFC stuff so much, right?”

“I just want to graduate and  _ do _ something with myself,” she sighed. “If I die before that happens, then I’ll have just lived for nothing.” She paused, inhaling, as if to collect herself. “So I have to do everything I can to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

Crap. She had everything to lose, and so did everyone else-- how could he stand around and assert that there was nothing they could do?

DP felt his insides drop in sudden guilt. “Shit… I’m sorry to remind you about this stuff.”

“It’s fine. You’re probably right, anyways.” She looked down, fidgeting with the sleeve of her coat. “Lying to myself isn’t going to get me anywhere.”

“It’s not lying. You said it’s, like, not statistically zero that we’ll succeed.”

“Is a fraction really any better than zero, though?”

He didn’t say anything.

“Well… I guess it has to be, if we’re going to try. Which we  _ definitely  _ will.” They stopped at a street corner. Zelda hesitantly pointed a finger down the road. “My car’s parked over there… I’ve got to go.”

“Sure,” DP waved. “See ya.”

“Good talk.”

He nodded. They parted ways.

DP listened to the crunch of dead leaves under his feet as he began walking back home. 

Did he feel better?

Hell, no. If anything, all he’d done was make Zelda feel bad and freak himself out more than he already was. He was just a servant in the end of things, wasn’t he? He knew he was more than that, but nobody else of importance would agree. Galeem wouldn’t even show him the mercy of stomping him out like some fly. He would simply be told to go back to Master.

That was unfathomably worse. All these years down on Earth, and for what?

Everything on this planet-- the trees, the flowers, every place he’d ever lived, the streets, the supermarkets, the crunchy peanut butter, the  _ people--  _ he wanted so badly for it all to be home, but something always dragged him back to the place he came from.

Apparently the gods couldn’t even let him have that.

That was fine. He’d rejected them for a whole millennium. What was a few months more?

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's a chapter with zelda in it because she's been totally screwed over so far whoops


End file.
